


Haunted

by standintherain16



Series: Haunted [1]
Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Eating Disorder, F/M, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standintherain16/pseuds/standintherain16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's madly in love with his best friend. But Louis is taken by his stupidly perfect girlfriend, Eleanor. And Harry just can't take it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The photoshoot seemed to drag on for forever. Louis didn't try to get me to talk again, but he still kept shooting me looks as I pretended to text someone. 

We were offered some vegetable tray, and Niall eagerly dug in. I wasn't hungry, despite not eating any breakfast, so I let the other boys munch on carrots and celery. 

Liam frowned when he noticed that I wasn't eating, but he didn't say anything. For all he knew, I could be stuffed from a gigantic meal this morning. He didn't want to risk me getting angry at him, so he didn't ask. 

"Okay, we're ready for group shots?" the photographer said. 

We nodded, but I wanted to shake my head and leave already. 

I hated group shots. Louis tended to throw himself all over one of us. Sometimes it was me, sometimes it wasn't. Either way hurt. 

Today, it was me that he chose. 

"Okay, just have fun, don't be serious," she ordered. 

Louis smirked and I stumbled as he jumped into my arms. 

"Take it quick! Harry's a weakling and he can't hold me for long!" Louis laughed. 

I was weak. I had lost a lot of muscle. My arms shook after only a few seconds of holding him and he wasn't heavy. I was scared that I would drop him. 

Relief flooded through me when the picture was taken and I could set him down. My arms burned and itched and I realized that I was exhausted. 

My head pounded and my mouth was dry. 

I shouldn't be this worn out. I was actually breathing hard just from holding him and I was a little dizzy. 

Okay, a lot dizzy. 

Someone said something. I think we were told to look serious. I tried to make my face cooperate, but I probably looked like a constipated clown. 

"Harry? You're really pale, are you alright?" 

I think it was Liam who spoke, but it sounded like it was from the end of a tunnel. 

"He looks like he might pass out," someone commented. 

"Harry?" 

"Harry?" 

"Harry?" 

Everyone needed to shut up. I was perfectly fine. 

Then everything went black.

************************************

"Harry, wake up!" 

Ugh. I felt like I might vomit and my head hurt like I was getting hit with a hammer. 

But I blinked my eyes open anyways. 

"Hazza, are you okay? You passed out!" Louis yelped. 

I sat up, dazed. The boys surrounded me, looking worried and a few other people who worked for the magazine were hanging around. 

"I'm fine," I said, but my voice was shaking. 

Niall looked like he was going to cry and Zayn looked worried as well. Liam just looked thoughtful, his eyes narrowed in concentration. 

Louis was the closest to me. He cautiously supported my back as I looked around, confused. 

Why had I passed out? I had been fine, and all of a sudden everything had just gotten weird. 

"I...don't really know what happened. I put Louis down and...I dunno. I got really dizzy and everything got all cloudy and bright," I mumbled. 

"Harry, when was the last time you ate something?" Liam asked. 

I had to think about it. 

"I dunno. Two days ago, maybe?" I said. 

Liam sighed heavily. 

"What'd you eat?" he asked. 

"Um...oh I think I had a few of Louis's crisps when we were in the van," I said. 

All of the boys looked stunned. 

Then I understood what Liam was getting at. I had passed out from malnutrition or starvation or something like that. 

"Harry, we should get you home," Zayn muttered, "And I mean home. In Cheshire." 

"No! I'm fine," I snarled, "I just got dizzy!" 

The magazine workers glanced at eachother, but with a glare from Liam, they scurried from the room. 

"You aren't fine, Harry! When was the last time you had a decent meal? Look at you. You aren't getting better and we don't know what to do anymore. You need help, Harry. You need someone to look after you and make sure you're eating enough so this doesn't happen again," Liam sighed. 

I stood, shaking slightly. 

I couldn't bring myself to look at Louis. He was getting told things about his best mate that he'd never realized himself. 

"Li, I've tried getting help. Therapy and rehab didn't work," I muttered. 

"Why the hell did you go to rehab?" Louis asked, "Are you anorexic?" I heard the wobble in his voice. 

The boys looked at eachother, unsure of whether or not to tell him. 

"Harry, how much do you weigh?" Louis asked quietly. 

"Last time I checked, it was 120 pounds," Liam responded. 

"I'm not anorexic, Lou. I just don't want to eat anymore. I'm not ever hungry," I said. 

"You're starving yourself! I don't want my best mate dying!" Louis spat, jumping to his feet, "When the hell were you even in rehab and why didn't I know this?" 

Liam's eyes flashed. 

"Because you were to self-absorbed to notice! We told you he was going to therapy and you never asked why!" he snapped, "Harry, take off your bracelets. Show him what's been going on." 

I paled. I really didn't want Louis seeing it. I didn't want him seeing the pale scars or the dark scabs of more recent cuts. He wouldn't take this well. 

"Harry. Now," Liam growled. 

I slowly unclasped my watch and slipped off the rest of my multiple bracelets. 

"Show him," Liam commanded. 

I took a deep breath and held my wrist out to Louis, who grabbed it. 

He covered his mouth when he saw the mess of scars. 

"How long has this been going on?" he whispered. 

"About a year and a half," Zayn answered. 

Louis ran his fingers over the ridged bumps that my scars created. It felt good. 

I understood his shock. There was hardly a clean spot on my wrist that I hadn't cut into. There were diagonal cuts, horizontal cuts, even one vertical cut that I had made when I was told I had to try rehab. I had wanted nothing else but to die. Liam had stopped me before I could make it any deeper of make another one. 

Louis looked up at me, his eyes wide as tears dripped down his cheeks. 

"I had no idea...," he whispered, "I had no idea, but you all knew. Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Take off your shirt," Liam said quietly, not answering Louis's question. 

I did. 

Louis's eyes widened at how sharply my ribs protruded out of my skin. I had lost a ridiculous amount of weight and he was just now seeing it. 

He took in my whole body. The cuts on my wrist, the bags under my eyes, the indent under my ribs that my stomach had become. 

"I'm going to throw up," he mumbled, taking two steps backwards. Finding a trash can a few feet away, he became violently sick. 

I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear the idea that he knew now. If I stayed any longer, he'd probably find out the reason why I was the way I was. 

I yanked my shirt back on and sprinted out the door, shoving several employees out of the way as I ran for my car. 

I couldn't get home to my razor fast enough. I'm sure I broke the speed limit several times on the way, but by the time I got home, I was going crazy. 

I needed to cut so badly it hurt. My hands shook and I was sweating. It felt like I was a drug addict suffering withdrawal. In a way, I was. I was addicted to cutting. 

I flung open my door and dashed down the hallway to my bathroom. 

Fumbling with the small blade and slicing my fingers in the process, I jerked it across my wrist, hot tears and cold sweat dripping down my face and mingling with the blood that flowed from my wrist. 

It gave very little relief. 

I dug the blade in deeper, in the same spot. The stab of pain made me gasp, but as the initial shock wore away, it felt so good. 

The sting that I felt as the razor tore apart the skin on my wrist was nowhere near the pain my heart felt. But it took the edge off of it. 

I stared at the two new cuts on my wrist, the ruby blood enthralling. I knew that one of the boys would probably arrive to check on me soon. 

They had every right. They didn't know how extreme or mild my depression was at the moment. Liam knew I wasn't going to kill myself. Zayn probably did also. But Niall had a tendency to assume the worst. 

And now that Louis knew... 

I was hungry. Really, really hungry. My stomach clenched and growled. 

The flat really didn't have a lot of food. But I managed to make myself a sandwich and got a glass of water. 

"Harry?" 

Dammit. I waited for Liam to find me in the kitchen. The sight of me eating made him smile slightly. 

"Louis wanted to come but I told him that it was better if he didn't. I said maybe later," he said quietly. 

I nodded. 

"I'm assuming you cut yourself," Liam continued. 

I nodded again and showed him my wrist, one of the cuts still bleeding slightly. 

"Harry, I just...I just don't know what to do. Today was really scary for all of us. You're malnourished and you're cutting yourself and nothing's helping you to stop. I'm trying to be brave but Harry...I'm really scared," Liam whispered. I knew he was about to cry and my heart squeezed with guilt. 

"I want to stop. I do. But I can't. If you take away the razor, I'll find something else to cut with or I'll hit a wall. And I want to eat, but usually I either forget if I've eaten yet or I feel sick if I eat," I mumbled. 

"I want you to try rehab again," Liam said. 

I sighed heavily and wiped the beads of blood off my wrist with a towel. 

"What makes you think it'll work this time?" I asked. 

"I want to try a different place. This place...you're not connected to the outside world at all. No media, no contact with us," Liam explained. 

"That won't work. I'll get depressed from not seeing anyone. God dammit, Liam! I don't know what the fuck to do!" I snarled, throwing my glass of water across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. 

He looked at me, his eyes wide with fear. I had never been violent before. 

"You think if I go to rehab, it'll all be better! That I'll stop cutting, that I'll eat and gain some weight. Maybe so. But as soon as I get out, it'll just be start again! It's not something that you can fucking fix by locking me away! You can't just forget about somebody like that because its more than depression. My heart's broken Liam and there's no way to fix it! He'll never look at me and understand the pain I feel! He'll never want me the way I want him! I wanna...I wanna be his, Li! I want him to hold me and fix me so I'm not broken any more! I want..." 

I stopped, throwing another glass. It shattered also. The sharp edges would cut me if I touched them. 

"Harry. Calm down, it's okay," Liam murmured, seeing the look on my face as I stared at the shattered glass. 

"It's. Not. Fucking. Okay!" I screamed, whipping a plate towards him. 

He paled as it hit a few inches to the left of his head. 

It felt good to break things. I threw plate after plate, glass after glass until all I had left was a pile of glass and broken china. 

I stood, breathing hard. 

Liam was as far away from me as he could get while still being in the room. His eyes were wide. 

"Hey, Harry?" 

Neither of us moved as Louis walked into the kitchen. 

He froze when he saw the destruction. 

"He had a bit of a meltdown," Liam explained. 

I couldn't bring myself to see what Louis's reaction was. It must be horrible for him. He had thought I was okay, but today so many things proved him wrong. 

"Why?" Louis asked, his voice noticibly shaking. 

"He's just...," Liam stopped. 

"Because I can't fucking take this anymore," I snapped, looking up and into Louis's beautiful blue eyes. 

"Take what?" he asked, his lip trembling. I wanted nothing more than to kiss it until it stopped. 

I absently wiped a bead of blood away from my wrist. It had almost stopped bleeding. 

I heard Louis's sharp intake of breath and I felt sick that he had to see me like this. 

"Why are you guys keeping me out of this?" he whispered. 

"They figured it out by themselves, Lou. I never told them anything," I muttered, "I should clean this up." 

"Uh, no. I'll do it," Liam said quickly. 

I knew why he volunteered. He knew I'd be tempted to cut with all the sharp fragments of dishes. 

"I don't get it. Why is he like this?" Louis murmured. 

"He is standing right here," I snapped. 

"Sorry," he mumbled. 

He was crying again and I wanted to kiss away the tears that streamed down his face. 

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped!" he cried. 

"You should have seen it for yourself. We all did. How didn't you see how skinny he was getting? When I saw his cuts, I didn't tell anyone. Zayn and Niall saw them by themselves. And you fucking acted like Harry was perfectly fine! You knew he was going to therapy and you never bothered to ask why! How can you call yourself his best mate when it's me that's been there for him for the past year?" Liam snarled. 

I was surprised, but not surprised at the same time. 

Throughout this whole ordeal, Liam had been there for me the whole time when Louis hadn't. 

Louis was crying harder now. 

"I think...I think I knew. I just didn't want...I wanted him to be okay! So I didn't...I pretended he was!" he wailed. 

I stepped over the broken dishes and wrapped my arms around him. 

He gasped softly, but buried his head in my chest and sobbed harder than I had ever seen him cry. 

"Hush, it's alright," I whispered. 

He shook his head. 

"I'm horrible! I never noticed," he sniffed. 

Then he laughed sharply. 

"You're comforting me when it should be me making sure you're okay," he said. 

I brushed a piece of hair away from his face. My body itched for me to kiss him but I didn't. 

"I'm gonna go out for a little while. Get some fresh air," I said, pulling away from him. 

"Want me to come?" Louis asked. 

"No. Let him be by himself for a bit. He's got a lot going on," Liam said, gently putting his hand on Louis's arm. 

Louis looked a little reluctant as I put on my coat and shoes. 

"I'll be fine. I'll be back in two hours or so, alright?" I asked. 

Louis and Liam nodded. 

"Come on, Lou. We should probably clean up the glass," Liam suggested. He sounded like a baby sitter talking to a child after their parents left to go out for a little while. 

"See you," I called. 

I was so relived to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked open my eyes, regretting it immediately. 

I wasn't hung over or anything, I just hated waking up in the mornings without Louis by my side. 

Every since he had gotten his own place and moved out of our flat, it just seemed pointless to wake up. I used to always love waking up because he usually was the one making me. Sometimes he'd run in and jump on my bed until I was awake, but sometimes he'd crawl into bed with me and cuddle until I opened my eyes. I always had preferred the latter. 

But no. Now I woke up by myself. I ate by myself, when I did eat. I had gotten so used to cooking for Louis that it just depressed me further to know I only had to cook for one. So I didn't eat much anymore, and the boys were noticing. The fans were noticing as well. Everyone but Louis. 

It was so obvious something was wrong with me, so why couldn't he see it? It wasn't just the fact that you could see my ribs through my shirt. I hadn't slept well in ages, so I was pale and sickly looking with huge dark circles under my eyes. I wasn't even hiding the angry red cuts on my wrist anymore. Usually when we were out in public, the other boys made me put on bracelets though. They didn't want the fans to see just how badly I was doing. 

Especially recently I was getting a lot of tweets asking if I was alright, because something was obviously wrong. 

Hell, even Eleanor noticed! 

That stupid, perfect girl that Louis was infatuated with noticed I wasn't okay and my best mate didn't. 

And that stung most of all. 

I sighed heavily, exhausted after only a few hours of sleep. But I was tired all the time now, so it was nothing new. Even the sleeping pills that I had been prescribed didn't help. I'd take them and fall asleep, but I always woke up just as tired as I had been before. 

Going into the bathroom and looking into the mirror, what I saw wasn't surprising anymore. 

Bloodshot eyes, pale skin, dull hair, thin limbs. Yeah. You'd have to be blind not to know that I was definetly not okay. 

But Louis didn't! He was the only person who saw me as normal. And yet he still called himself my best mate. 

How didn't he notice when one of the boys took me aside to check my wrist for new cuts or how they were so protective of me lately? How didn't he notice the other day when I had run into the loo and burst into tears when he brought Eleanor along to a lunch that I thought would just be he and I? How was he so damn oblivious? 

I was hit with a sudden burst of anger and slammed my fist into the wall, relishing the pain that shot up my arm. 

I carefully flexed my fingers, but I knew nothing was broken. It wouldn't be that easy. Maybe if I broke something, Louis would finally notice something was wrong. 

I knew I shouldn't cut, we had a photoshoot and fresh cuts are hard to hide, but I itched for my razor. 

I hit the wall again, needing to feel pain. And again. I did it until the crave for making myself bleed vanished, mostly because two of my knuckles had split open. There was also a hole in the wall now, something I was somewhat proud of. 

My hand and wrist throbbed painfully, but it felt good in a twisted way. It took a little bit of the pain inside my heart away. 

"Harry?" 

Dammit. Why didn't I ever lock the front door? 

All the boys just walked in. I knew if I ever did lock it and they tried to get in, they would all assume the worst and think I killed myself. Except Louis. He might think it was strange that my door was locked, but he wouldn't think anything like that. 

"I'm in the bathroom!" I yelled to Liam. 

"Alright!" he called back, "We should leave in like ten minutes." 

I knew as soon as I told him where I was that he would know to check my wrist when I came out. Although he would do it regardless. I was getting worse. 

I ran my fingers through my dull hair and brushed my teeth quickly before going back into my room and throwing on the first shirt and jeans I saw. 

I didn't care about my appearance anymore. Why should I? I wasn't trying to impress people. My broken heart was reserved for one person. 

Louis. 

I shuffled out of my room and Liam smiled when he saw me. Gently taking my hand, he flipped my wrist upwards, scanning it. There was only old scabs and scars. 

He shivered involuntarily at the mess my wrist was. Liam tried to stay brave for all of the boys, but sometimes his facade broke. 

"How are you?" he asked sadly. 

I shrugged. 

"Same as always. Wondering why the hell I'm still forcing myself to live," I muttered. I didn't lie to the boys. They'd known me long enough to see right through me. They figured out the cause of my depression without having me tell them. 

Liam frowned and I could see the worry in his eyes. 

But I had stopped feeling guilty a long time ago. I had stopped feeling very much of anything. Only pain remained in my life. 

"Harry..." 

I pulled my hand out of his loose grip and smiled, but we both knew it was forced. 

"I'm not going anywhere soon," I said quietly, "I'm not that stupid. You three need me, and the fans do to." 

"Harry," he repeated, but it was a warning. 

Liam knew I had said 'you three' intentionally. He knew I knew Louis couldn't give a flying fuck about me. But everyone still tried to convince me otherwise. 

"Harry, he cares about you. He doesn't want to admit to himself that something is seriously wrong. So he refuses to let himself see it and he's trying to convince himself your okay," Liam said sternly, "Louis loves you, Harry." 

He froze immediately and my mood darkened further. 

"That's bullshit, Liam. I don't fucking care if you think he loves me, but I know he doesn't. At least not like I love him," I spat angrily, "We should get going." 

"Don't be like that," he sighed, following me. 

I whirled around. 

"Be like what? You can't fucking tell me how to act! You have no idea how hard it is to keep up a fucking act all the time so maybe the fans will think that I'm the slightest bit sane! You have no idea how bad I fucking hurt all the time!" I snarled. 

Liam was used to my outbursts. So where Zayn and Niall. I couldn't bring myself to yell at happy, oblivious Louis. 

I stormed out to my car and waited, fuming, for Liam to get in. 

We drove to the photoshoot in a tense silence. 

He didn't want to say anything to make me angry and I just didn't want to talk to anyone. If I had it my way, I'd be back home curled up with Louis as he told me how much he loved me. But that wouldn't happen. Ever. 

When we arrived, I was thankful that no fans waited outside of the building. I wasn't in the mood to force a smile for them. I hadn't been in the mood for a long time. 

I went inside of the building, where a receptionist directed us to where we needed to go. She was rather pretty, but the fact that she wasn't Louis made her ugly to me. 

"Hey boys!" Zayn greeted pleasantly as Lou, our stylist, fussed with his hair. 

"Hi," Liam replied. 

I didn't say a word. 

I remained silent when Niall and Louis came in, laughing side by side. I felt unbearable jealousy even though I knew there was nothing to be jealous of. I could have that with Louis still. He tried to joke with me all the time. But it hurt to much. 

So instead I shrugged off his hugs, shifted away when he put his hand on my knee during interviews. I didn't crack a smile when he told a joke or join in when he jumped around, acting like his crazy Louis self. 

I was pushing him away. It hurt to do, but keeping him close only reminded me that I was stuck in the friend zone forever. 

I shook myself out of my thoughts, noticing he was animatedly telling Liam something. 

"But yeah, she's just so funny! I have never met anyone more hilarious. Other than myself of course. Oh, I should tell you this one joke she told me and Harry a few days ago during lunch!" Louis said happily. 

"You went out to lunch together?" Liam asked, his eyes shifting to me as I picked out a shirt to wear for the photoshoot. 

"Yeah! It was great, wasn't it, Haz?" Louis replied. 

"I wouldn't know. I was in the loo," I growled coldly. 

Louis blinked at me, confused. Then he shrugged and turned back to Liam, telling him the joke that his precious Eleanor had said. 

Liam gently put his hand on Louis's arm, pushing him away and coming over to me. 

He led me a few feet away. 

"That lunch was supposed to be the two of you, wasn't it?" he asked softly. 

I nodded. 

"That's why you spent the whole time in the loo. And he didn't notice," Liam muttered, looking a bit angry. 

"He was to busy having the time of his life with his stupid girlfriend!" I spat, "He fucking left before I even came out! Who the hell does that?" 

Liam's eyes softened and he pulled me into a hug. 

It wasn't anywhere near as amazing and comforting as Louis's hugs had been, but I needed someone, anyone to hug me right then. 

I felt tears prickle in my eyes, but I swallowed a sob back down my throat. 

"You said he cared. You said he loved me. Not noticing that I left for an hour and a half sure doesn't sound very loving and caring," I mumbled against his chest. 

Pulling away from him, I glanced over at Louis. 

He hadn't noticed the discussion between me and Liam. 

But Zayn and Niall were looking at us worriedly. Louis was chattering to Niall, but the Irish lad wasn't paying any attention. 

Good. Louis was getting a taste of his own medicine. But the bloody bastard didn't even realize it. 

"Stupid mother fucking twat. He calls himself my best mate, Li. The fans that I've never met are better friends than he is!" I snarled. 

I clenched my fists, needing to release the fury I felt. 

Liam grabbed my arm tightly, sensing my anger. I dug my nails into my palms, knowing I had nothing to cut myself with. And hitting walls created a lot of noise. I jabbed them into my hands as hard as I could but I got no relief. 

"Harry," Zayn said, his voice low, "Calm down." 

Louis finally stopped talking. Even he could feel the tension in the room. 

"Hey, what's wrong, Haz?" he asked, smiling. 

I wanted to pummel that stupid grin off of his face. But I could never lay a finger on him. 

"Come outside with me," Liam commanded me. I gritted my teeth and headed for the door. 

"Why? What's wrong with him?" Louis asked, his smile fading. 

I was so angry that I saw red. I had never been this mad before. I turned around. 

"You. You're what's wrong," I said coldly, my tone much more calm than I felt. 

Louis tilted his head. 

"What'd I do?" he asked. 

I opened my mouth to reply, preparing myself to scream at him, listing everything he had done to hurt me. 

"Don't do this, Harry. It'll only make things worse. Come on, lets get you outside so you can get some air," Liam murmured in my ear. 

I took a deep breath and nodded slowly, following him out the door. 

We went outside and I leaned against the wall of the building. I shut my eyes and focused on my breathing, a technique that a therapist I had temporarily had taught me. 

Management had made me go, seeing that my depression wasn't getting better. But after two months of me only getting worse, they gave up. I also threw a fit every time I was forced to go. The therapist just made me angry for no reason. I liked him pretty well, but every time he tried to get me to talk about Louis, I tended to flip out. I actually threw a box of tissues at him. It hadn't been one of my finer moments. 

"What's going through your mind?" Liam asked after a couple minutes. 

"I want to cut myself so badly right now. I want it more than anything," I breathed, my eyes still closed, "I wanted to this morning. But I knew we had a photoshoot and new cuts are harder for Lou to cover with foundation or cover up or whatever it is that she does. So I didn't. I punched a hole in my bathroom wall instead." 

I heard Liam's sharp intake of breath and I felt him put his hand on my shoulder. 

"I don't know what to say anymore, Harry, I'm being honest with you. You've tried therapy and it didn't help. You even went to rehab for a few weeks, but you're cutting more than ever. What will it take for you to get better?" he asked, his voice cracking. 

I opened my eyes. 

Liam was struggling not to cry, I could see that. I wanted to hug him and assure him I would be fine. But I wouldn't. 

"You know what I need to get better," I whispered. 

Liam nodded. Then suddenly, an anger I had never seen crossed over his face and he violently kicked the wall several times. 

He stood there, his chest heaving. 

"I can see why you do it," he said darkly, "It does make it a little better." 

"Don't start cutting, Li," I warned. 

He grimaced. 

"Someone's got to stay sane for you. Niall's destroying himself out of worry for you. Zayn's keeping his emotions bottled up and I know he's going to explode one of these days. Then you've got Louis, who doesnt even notice when his friend drops fifty pounds," he muttered. 

Liam sighed, the anger leaving his features just as the door opened and Zayn stepped out. 

"Hey mates, we've got to get dressed," he said softly. 

"Alright," Liam said. 

"You know, Harry, Louis is worried about you. He's really upset because he doesn't know what he's done wrong," Zayn said. 

"He's upset because he doesn't know what he's done wrong, Zayn. He's not upset because something's wrong with me," I snapped, heading back inside. 

In the dressing room, Louis kept glancing at me, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to figure out what he possibly could have done. 

I shrugged on a black blazer over my grey shirt. 

Lou frowned as I plopped down on a chair for her to do my hair and makeup. 

"You haven't been sleeping any better," she commented, rubbing cool goo under my eyes. 

"Can't," I sighed, "Even with the sleeping pills." 

Lou frowned. 

She didn't know why I wasn't sleeping. Only Zayn, Liam, Niall, and my mum knew about my being in love with Louis. 

But Lou was concerned about me nevertheless. 

Hell, even management was concerned. They had told me if there was anything they could do to help with my depression, they would do it. I found it hard to believe they cared. But Will had seemed sincere when he told me that. 

"Harry, you need to take better care of your hair," Lou chided, "It's all flat. I can barely do anything with it." 

I shrugged. 

"It doesn't have the energy," I said simply. 

She sighed and continued to attempt to style it in vain. 

Once she was finished with all five of us, we headed out to the photoshoot. We greeted the photographers. 

"Alright! We'll start with individual shots. Can we get Harry first?" a bubbly woman called. 

I nodded and walked in front of the screen. 

"Look serious," she commanded. 

I obliged, looking darkly at the camera. 

Then my focus shifted to Louis as his phone rang. 

'Its Eleanor' he mouthed to Niall as he answered. 

My eyes hardened further as I glared at him and the flash went off. 

Great. I bet that was a good picture. I wasn't even looking at the camera. 

"Now smile!" the woman said. 

I had learned how to fake my smile. I had to think about something happy. 

I thought about a time where Louis and I had gotten into a snowball fight. 

A small, peaceful smile slipped onto my face and I looked directly into the camera this time, smiling almost shyly. 

She took a few other pictures then called Niall to go next. 

Louis sat next to me on a bench and slung his arm around me. If he noticed me tense, he didn't mention it. But why would he notice? 

"Hey, Hazza. Look, if something I've done is bothering you, then you know you can tell me anything," he said gently. 

If I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, I'd crumble. He would hypnotize me into telling him everything. So I looked down at my hands. 

"I'm sorry, Lou. I've just been dealing with some stuff. It's nothing you've done," I lied. 

It was everything he's done! 

He gently grabbed me chin and forced me to look at him. His eyes searched mine, but I didn't know for what. 

If life was really like one of those stupid stories our fans wrote for us, then Louis should have leaned in and kissed me right then. Maybe we'd have a fight, but we'd end up together and Eleanor would just disappear. 

But life wasn't like that. 

He frowned. 

"I used to always be able to tell what you were feeling. But...I can't now. You're just...blank. Something's different," he murmured. 

So he was finally noticing something was wrong, even if it was just the lack of emotion in my eyes. 

Hallelujah. 

I was so tempted to just lean forward that extra inch. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to love me in a nonplatonic way. 

I jerked away and Louis's eyes flickered briefly. But almost as soon as it came, the worry left. 

"You can always talk to me, Hazza," he said softly before getting up to get his pictures done. 

No. I couldn't. 

I hadn't talked to him, truly talked to him, since he started dating Eleanor.


	3. Chapter 3

Liam's POV

After Harry left, there was a tense silence between me and Louis. 

Sometimes I really, really hated him. I hated what he did to Harry and I hated that he didn't see it. I don't know why I got so angry at him and the other boys didn't, but something about this situation just got me so angry. 

"Why does he do it? Cut himself, I mean," Louis said quietly as we swept up the broken dishes. 

"It's complicated. It's his decision whether or not to tell you and knowing him, he won't," I replied. 

Louis huffed. 

"But you guys can know. I don't get it. Why am I the last to know about this? I could have helped him before it got so bad!" he protested. 

"Lou, we know because we figured it out. We asked and he told us we were right. It really wasn't that hard," I explained. 

"I feel sick, you know. That I never noticed. Well, I think I did but I didn't want to see it, so I didn't. But now, looking at him and seeing who he is now, I feel so guilty that I feel sick. I feel like it's my fault," he said softly. 

He was right, it was his fault in a way. 

"I want to show you something," I said suddenly. 

Louis followed me as I searched for Harry's laptop. When I found it, I googled 'Harry Styles 2011'. 

I clicked on a picture of ironically, Harry and Louis. They were grinning at the camera with their arms flung around eachother. Harry looked happy. It was something I hadn't seen in about a year. It was taken before he spun out of control. I wondered if this grinning Harry had cut himself yet. If he was depressed yet. I didn't know if he was depressed before Louis and Eleanor got together or not. He looked so happy and innocent in this picture that I wanted to cry. This picture might have been one of the last times he genuinely smiled. 

I opened a new tab and typed the same thing, but for 2012. 

There were a lot of pictures with captions regarding his sudden weight loss and how he looked depressed. 

I clicked on one where we stood together as a group with our arms around eachother. Harry was next to Louis and was visibly standing as far away as he could while still having his arm around him. 

In the picture, he was wearing a t-shirt, but you could see the slight outline of his ribs and his collarbone protruded out. His arms were thin. He wasn't smiling, unlike the rest of us. His eyes had dark bags under them and he was pale-looking. 

I remembered that picture. I should, it was only a few weeks prior. 

"Look at the difference," I instructed Louis. I clicked between the two tabs. A smiling, energetic Harry to a depressed and frighteningly thin one. 

Louis made a noise, kind of like a strangled yelp, and he buried his head into my shoulder. 

"How couldn't I have seen that? He looks dead, Liam! He's my best friend and I didn't see how depressed he is!" he wailed. 

Harry looked dead. 

It was actually a pretty accurate way to describe him. He looked frail and so pale he was practically transparent. His hair was limp and his eyes were cold. 

Harry looked dead. 

"Lou, I know I should comfort you, but I can't. There's nothing I can say. Rehab and therapy didn't help. Sending him home for a few weeks didn't work. He can't get better unless he wants to get better. And he just doesn't want that. He's not going to get better," I sighed. 

The look on Louis's face broke my heart. He really did love Harry a lot. But it was in a platonic way. 

Louis looked like I had told him Harry was already dead. He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes wide and desperate. 

"Please Liam, please tell me what happened! It's something I did, isn't it? That's why you won't tell me! Oh my god, I made Harry like this, didn't I?" he hissed. 

I couldn't lie and say that Louis had nothing to do with it. But I couldn't bring myself to confirm the accusation. I had to make myself look away from the pained blue eyes in front of me. 

Louis took his hands off me, slowly and shakily. 

"What did I do?" he whispered, "I thought I was there for him. We told eachother everything. What happened? What changed?" 

I felt incredibly uncomfortable. 

I wanted to shake him, tell him everything that Harry felt. 

I wanted to hug him, tell him that everything was okay. 

But I couldn't do either of those things. 

So I sat rigidly with my hands in my lap and listened to Louis mutter to himself as he analyzed the picture of Harry. I didn't know what Louis was looking for. Maybe some clue as to what had gone wrong and made Harry like this. 

He picked up the laptop and typed in 'Harry Styles depressed'. 

He clicked on a Sugarscape article.

'Harry Styles Depressed?

One Direction is an incredibly popular band. They've been compared to the Beatles and they've taken the world by storm. 

Who wouldn't be absolutely ecstatic about being a part of this? 

Harry Styles, that's who. 

Lately, Harry has been looking quite different from his usual cheeky and happy self. And we're not the only ones noticing his change. 

Thousands of worried fans have been bombarding the band with questions regarding Harry's health. 

Why is he so thin suddenly? Why is he so quiet during interviews now? 

Here at Sugarscape, we can't remember the last time we saw a picture where the lad was really smiling. Nowadays anybody can see that his smiles look fake and forced. 

He doesn't seem to join in on the jokes and laughter during interviews. In fact, he only speaks when directly spoken to. And we haven't caught him flirting with an interviewer in ages. 

The most shocking thing is his sudden weight loss. It's obvious that he had become very underweight. You can actually see his ribs when he wears tighter shirts. 

So what's going on? 

Nobody seems to know the real answer, but rumors are flying around. 

Is he sick? Or is he just very depressed? If so, what's wrong? 

Our guess is that the fame and pressure might be getting to him. 

If that's so, we pray that he doesn't leave the band. One Direction isn't complete without all five members. 

The only thing we can do is wait and hope that poor Harry gets better soon.'

I snuck a glance at Louis. The color was gone from his face. He clicked on another link, but this one made my heart skip a beat.

'Harry Styles Fainting During Photoshoot'

"Who told them?" Louis hissed angrily, waiting for it to load. 

"Dunno. There were a lot of people there when it happened. Not everyone is going to keep quiet," I sighed.

 

'Harry Styles Fainting During Photoshoot

It has been leaked that today, during a photoshoot, Harry Styles fainted. 

We have a very credible source telling us exactly what happened. 

'He seemed fine earlier in the day. Sure he looked exhausted and pale, but that's just how he is lately. He didn't join in when the boys would joke around, even when they specifically tried to include him. He just stared off into space, really,' our source tells us. 

'When we took the group picture, we asked them to just be silly. So Louis made Harry hold him. It was actually surprising how difficult it appeared for Harry to do so. He was shaking just after a few seconds. Anyways, when that picture was done and Harry put Louis down, that's when it got weird. 

'We told them to do another silly picture, but Harry didn't really react. He just got really, really pale, almost ashy. One of the boys said something to him, but he just kind of stood there. He was breathing kind of funny and swaying a bit, so I think that's what really tipped them off that this wasn't normal behavior. Then next thing you know, he just kind of crumpled over. Thankfully Niall caught him and he woke up a few seconds later,' our source continues. 

We're pretty surprised something like this happened. Should we be? 

He appears to be very weak and tired all the time, so is it really a surprise that he passed out? 

The question is why. 

We asked our source what they thought about it, and their answer was very shocking. 

'Well, when he woke up, Liam asked him when the last time he ate something was. And he answered that he had eaten some of Louis's crisps two days ago and none of them but Louis seemed very surprised. I wouldn't be surprised if he had passed out due to starvation. Poor kid looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks. I didn't hear anything else because Liam kind of glared us out. That guy had a dirty glare. But a few minutes later, Harry did storm out looking rather irritated,' our source says. 

So is that it? Is Harry Styles starving himself? 

At Sugarscape, we want nothing more than to shove some high-calorie foods down his throat. If he keeps this up, he'll be nothing but a pile of bones in a matter of time.'

Louis was shaking. 

One look at his face and the answer why was obvious. 

He was completely furious. 

I waited patiently for an outburst and it wasn't a very long wait. 

"Who the hell do they think they are? What happened today is private and did not need to be leaked to the public! Especially our conversation afterwards! Now everyone is going to think Harry's anorexic!" he yelled, "And who the hell knows? He'll probably get a shit load of hate for being anorexic, which he isn't, and that's probably going to depress him further! I wouldn't be surprised if he just fucking kills himself!" 

I bit my lip. 

I was thinking the exact same thing, but I knew Harry wouldn't kill himself. He was to strong. 

Hate had stopped bothering him a while ago. Now the only thing that could hurt him was seeing Louis and Eleanor together. 

"Louis, I'm going to say this once. Harry will not kill himself over this. He doesn't mind hate anymore," I said. 

Louis turned towards me, eyes blazing. But the fire slowly dwindled. 

"I figured hate was part of the problem. But apparently it's not. So it really is something I've done," he sighed. 

"Lou, don't beat yourself up over this. It's not something you've really done, it's...I don't really know how to describe it. It's something Harry did, actually. But it involves you. It's not your fault. He was pretty good at hiding it," I explained carefully. 

"Was? Was pretty good at hiding it?" Louis asked. 

Oh, damn. 

"As he's gotten worse, I don't think he's got the strength to be careful about it anymore. So...he's pushed you away so you won't figure it out. Please Lou, just don't try figuring it out. He doesn't want you to know and personally, I think it's best that you don't either," I said. 

I expected him to explode, yell at me for hiding this. Or ask why he can't know but we can. 

Instead, he put his head in his hands and burst into tears. 

"I...I can't...I want him...I just want to...I want him to be o-okay...I...I'm s-scared," he hiccuped in between sobs. 

I felt helpless. I put my arms around him and stayed silent. 

He buried his face in my shirt and I held him close. 

Poor guy was basically getting told that his best friend may very well kill himself in the near future and none of us could do a thing about it. 

He cried like a little kid. He gripped my shirt tightly in his hands, his soft whimpers and cries getting muffled by the fabric. 

In a way, Louis was a child. He was sitting in my lap, hiding his face away from the world, bawling his eyes out. He just wanted comfort and reassurance that everything and everyone would be alright. And I detested the fact that I couldn't give him that. 

I didn't care that my shirt was getting soaked by his tears. If having a good cry made him feel even the tiniest bit better, then I would sit here with him until he was done. 

"W-what's gonna...happen?" he asked. 

"I don't know, Lou. I'm just as scared and worried as you," I said softly. 

His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. I hated seeing happy, optimistic Louis so broken. 

"I'm sorry," Louis whimpered. 

"It's not your fault," I murmured, tightening my arms around him, "Sometimes it just helps to cry." 

My phone rang. 

"Yeah?" I mumbled. 

"Hey. Did you see the article about Harry on Sugarscape?" Zayn asked. 

I sighed heavily. The fans were probably tweeting it to us. 

"Yeah. Lou's with me, we're at Harry's place. He left a bit ago after having a bit of a meltdown. He threw a bunch of dishes around," I explained. 

I heard Zayn suck in a breath. 

"Do you want me and Niall to come over? Honestly, neither of us want to be alone right now. He's pretty upset," he said. 

"Aren't we all? Yeah, sure. Harry'll be back in an hour," I said. 

"That's fine. Be there in a few," Zayn said before hanging up. 

"Zayn and Niall are coming over," I explained to Louis. 

He didn't respond, only tightened his grip on my shirt. 

I wished I could do this for Harry. Let him cry on my shoulder, then after he was done, everything would be alright. But I couldn't do that. 

A few minutes later, Zayn and Niall walked in. Apparently Harry hadnt locked the door after leaving. 

They took in the image of Louis huddled on my lap. 

"He's stressed and upset. So am I," I sighed. 

Zayn nodded sadly in agreement and sat down next to us. Niall sat on the other side of me. 

Together, we just held eachother close, scared for Harry, scared for what could possibly happen. 

It was one of those times where I appreciated how close our band was. We could sit and cry together and not feel ashamed. Niall was just as teary as Louis, and even Zayn's hard exterior was cracking a little. A couple tears made wet streaks down his cheeks. But I refused to cry. I needed to be brave for them. 

"We're such a mess," I chuckled, shifting slightly. Louis wasn't super heavy, but after a while, I got pretty uncomfortable. 

"We have a reason to be," Zayn said, shrugging. 

"Yeah. We do," I agreed. 

The door opened and Harry walked in. 

He looked at us, almost in amusement, and smirked. 

"Foursome?" he slurred, sounding bitter. He was drunk. This didn't surprise me. 

I stood up, dumping Louis onto the couch. He looked up at me, blinking, and then at Harry. 

"Come on, Harry. You need to get to bed," I sighed. 

He was drunk and it wasn't even night yet. But I felt exhausted as well. 

I took his hand and led him down the hall. 

"You gonna come to bed with me?" he asked, "Cause I don't wanna sleep with you. I love Louis. I love him so much! He's so perfect, don't you think?" 

I rolled my eyes. Harry tended to talk about Louis excessively when he was drunk. 

"Take off your clothes and get into bed, Curly," I ordered. 

He laughed, but slid off his shirt and jeans anyways. 

"I said I don't wanna sleep with you, Payne! I wanna sleep with Louis. Perfect, perfect Louis. I love him so much, did you know that? I love him. But he's with Eleanor, so I can't be with him. That kinda hurts, cause I love him. I love Louis. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him...," he chattered. 

As I listened to his drunken babbling, something inside of me snapped. 

Anger flared up in me so suddenly that I couldn't push it back down. 

"Then why the fuck don't you do something about instead of sitting here and whining about it?" 

That wasn't me, was it? I didn't get mad at him. I didn't yell, I just didn't. 

Yelling at Louis earlier was different. I was angry for Harry. He himself loved Louis to much to get mad. 

But I never got mad at Harry. 

But that had been my voice, my yell. It was so loud that it rang in my ears. But maybe that was just me. 

Harry stopped talking and stared at me, his lip trembling. 

"You hate me. He hates me. Everyone hates me! Go away and leave me alone!" he screamed, yanking his duvet over his head. 

"Oh, Harry, I didn't mean..." 

Did I? 

Honestly, I didn't even know what I felt anymore. 

"Go away!" he shrieked, "Just leave me alone!" 

I backed up and quietly closed the door behind me. 

As I walked into the living room, three pairs of eyes were wide as they looked at me. Apparently I really had yelled at him quite loudly. 

I stood there and shrugged helplessly. 

Suddenly, I felt all my walls break open. Tears filled my eyes, spilling out and streaming down my face. I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself in a useless effort to hold in my emotions. But I couldn't. 

The stress, the anger, the helplessness. It all came rushing to the surface and I couldn't push it behind any walls. My strength was gone. 

I could barely breath. All the emotions I had hidden for so long were forcing themselves out and I could stop it. I could only sit there and cry. 

I hated myself. I needed to be strong, but I was weak. 

"I'm so sorry," I gasped, "I'm supposed to be the strong one. The one who keeps calm. But I can't, I just...it's too much and I'm too weak to do this anymore. I'm sorry. It's too much...and I'm weak. I'm just weak." 

I felt a hand on my back and I looked up into concerned golden eyes. 

"Li, you shouldn't feel this way," Zayn said softly, "It isn't healthy to hide your emotions like this. Even I let it out sometimes. We don't expect you to always be calm about everything, alright? Honestly, I'm kind of relieved that you even know how to cry." 

I tried to laugh, but I choked and spluttered on my tears. Now I was the one that the boys were holding close and comforting. 

And actually, it felt really good.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry's POV

I woke up with a slight headache. I had gone out last night with the full intention of getting deleriously drunk. 

But after a few beers, I just didn't want to be at the club anymore. Fans and sluts were cooing over me and I was sick of the attention, so I came back. 

The sight of the boys huddled together made me feel guilty. I saw the tear tracks on Zayn's face and how hard Louis and Niall were crying. I knew it was my fault. 

But still, a spark of jealousy had rose in my stomach upon seeing Louis curled up on Liam's lap. 

I sat up and rubbed my temples. 

I remembered blabbering on about Louis to Liam, which I tended to do when I got drunk. 

But when Liam had snapped at me...that had been unexpected. He had gotten angry at Louis before, but that was really the only time I'd seen him lose his temper. 

And last night...maybe he'd finally gotten sick and tired of my constant complaints. He knew I couldn't do anything about my love for Louis. If I did, it could tear the band completely apart. 

But I felt horrible. 

I hadn't really given any thought about how my depression affected the rest of the band. What if our careers were slowly sinking because of me? 

I'd seen the numerous articles regarding my sudden change. I'd even seen one claiming that this was a publicity stunt. That one had gotten me seriously pissed off, and judging from the angry comments, the fans did not approve of the article either. 

But maybe once the media died down and got used to my new self, maybe then One Direction would have a bad image. 

We had been loved as five energetic, personable young guys who were pretty attractive. And now because of me, everyone was stressed and not nearly as fun and happy to be around. And calling my underweight, sickly self attractive was nowhere close to being accurate. 

Maybe I could change. I didn't have the strength to stop loving Louis, but maybe I could make it seem like I had. 

I could try and stop cutting. If I couldn't, I'd hide them better so the boys wouldn't see. That way they would be at peace thinking that I had stopped. 

I could try to eat more and gain back a little weight. If I had to physically force myself to eat, then I would. 

I'd take the sleeping pills every night instead of just occasionally. 

I'd work on improving a fake smile for the cameras. 

Maybe I'd go somewhere warm on our time off and quit being so pale. 

I'd quit reading those stupid fanfictions and watching videos that only got my hopes up that maybe there was a chance that Louis felt the same way. 

This could work. It would also get Liam and the other boys to settle down and quit wasting time worrying about me. 

Sure, it would be hard, but I'd do it for the boys. I wouldn't let myself be the downfall of the group. 

I wandered out of my room and found three sleeping boys sprawled out around the living room. 

"We were to tired to leave." 

I jumped as I realized Liam was standing next to me. 

"Look mate, I'm really sorry about snapping at you last night. It was uncalled for," he apologized. 

"No, you had every right. I haven't been thinking about you guys; I've been selfish," I sighed, "But I'm going to try to get better. I really am this time. On my own, no rehab or therapy. That just made everything worse." 

Liam grinned tiredly. 

"Something good came out of you getting drunk," he chuckled. 

"Somewhat. Anyways, I was going to go shopping because there's like nothing to eat in here. Want to come?" I asked, trying to change the subject. 

He nodded. 

When we got back, arms full of groceries, only Zayn was still asleep. 

Louis and Niall were talking pretty intensely when we walked in. 

"Hey lads!" I greeted them. 

They jerked. Apparently they hadn't heard us come inside. 

"Hey, Hazza," Louis said warmly. 

My heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname. It didn't sound right coming from any of the other boys; it only sounded right when Louis said it. But he rarely called me that anymore. 

"We got food. Any requests?" I asked. 

Niall looked surprised that I was actually making food. Louis had never noticed that I never cooked anymore, so he just smiled and looked at Niall. 

"Whatever is fine," he said. 

I shrugged and went into the kitchen. 

As I was rummaging in a drawer for a fork, I felt a sharp prick on the side of my hand. I bit back a curse, and pulled my hand back. 

Some stupid steak knife had cut me. 

I stared at the blood welling up from the tiny cut. I wanted to make it bleed more. 

I scratched my nails over it roughly, and the blood started to ooze out a little bit faster. 

But it wasn't enough. 

I had to remind myself of my promise. No more visible cuts. 

I managed to escape to the bathroom without being noticed. 

I immediately pulled the waist of my trousers down slightly so I could drag the sharp razor I had hidden in a drawer across my skin. 

I sucked in a breath at the initial pain, but as usual, it ebbed away into pure relief. 

I came out of the bathroom a few moments later, a bandage secure over the cut. 

Zayn was awake, but his eyes were heavy with sleep. 

"What are you making, Hazza?" Louis asked, wrapping his arm around me as he bounced into the kitchen. 

It felt like my skin was on fire as soon as he touched me. 

I didn't understand how he didn't feel how tense I was. 

"Eggs. I'm to lazy to make anything else," I mumbled through gritted teeth. 

Liam was watching me carefully. I knew he didn't want a repeat of yesterday's dish-throwing incident. 

I felt guilty and embarrassed about my breakdown. Liam had watched me at my weakest point, and I never wanted anyone having to see me like that again. 

Louis hummed happily and playfully nuzzled my neck. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, the warm, irony taste filling my mouth. 

"Lou, please get off me," I growled. 

He drew back, looking a little upset. 

"I don't want to mess up your food, Boo. I need to be able to move around," I said quickly, and he relaxed. 

He hopped up on the counter, and my stomach twisted as a memory hit me. 

We had been having a house party, and everyone was incredibly drunk. 

Louis and I had been in the kitchen, chatting about nothing in particular. He was sitting on the counter like he was now, and I was in between his legs, leaning on him. 

I don't know how, but the next thing I knew, we were kissing. Full-out snogging. 

We'd only stopped when an incredibly drunk Niall had stumbled in several minutes later. 

As far as I knew, Louis had no memory of it the next morning. 

But I did. I ached for the feel of his lips against mine again. 

It had given me a brief flash of hope. Maybe he did feel the same way. 

But two days later, he introduced me to his beautiful new girlfriend that he had met at the very same party. 

"Hazza? You spaced out," Louis said, and I blinked back into the present. 

"Tired, I think," I muttered, tearing my eyes away from him, "Eggs are ready." 

Once we got the food, we sat on the couches. 

My portion was significantly less than the other lads, and Louis wrinkled his nose. 

"That's all?" he asked, "Harry, that's not enough." 

I didn't answer. This was more than I usually ate in an entire day. 

Thankfully, Zayn spoke up for me. 

"Louis, be thankful Harry's eating anything at all. He never eats breakfast," he said simply. 

Louis's eyes flickered with guilt and he mumbled an apology. 

As the other boys discussed upcoming plans, I picked at my eggs. I'd promised myself to eat more, but after a few bites, I felt sick. 

"Harry, you really don't have to finish if you don't want," Niall murmured next to me, "Here, switch plates." 

I quickly handed him mine, and I took his empty plate. Nobody else noticed the switch. 

Liam smiled approvingly at my 'finished' plate. 

"Got your appetite back?" he asked. 

I shrugged. No, I didn't. But I couldn't lie. Zayn was watching and he could see right through anybody when they lied. 

"So tomorrow we're leaving for the States at about 9, I believe," Liam continued, "But we've got today off." 

Niall nodded. 

"Can we go out to eat tonight? As a group? We haven't done that in a while," he suggested. 

"Yeah, sure. Are you up for that, Harry?" Louis asked. 

I nodded stiffly. 

Maybe tonight Louis would see just how little I actually ate.

************************************

"Nandos!" Niall begged, "Please? Pretty please?" 

"Alright, fine!" Liam sighed. 

We'd been listening to Niall's pleads for about twenty minutes and Liam had finally given in. 

"Ready to go, lads?" Liam asked, standing. 

"Actually, I can't. Eleanor's coming to my place tonight," Louis said. 

My stomach clenched painfully and I looked at the floor, my sight blurring as my eyes started to fill with tears. I wouldn't let them fall; I refused. 

"I thought you said you were coming?" Niall asked, looking at me with concern. 

"I completely forgot that I promised she could visit. I haven't seen her in ages and I really miss her a lot. I'm sorry I can't come," Louis said. 

I swallowed thickly, and I felt Liam's sturdy arm around my shoulders. 

"Don't have fun without me, alright?" Louis joked. 

I wouldn't have fun at all. 

We left my flat, Louis taking his car separately. 

As we piled into Liam's car, the worried glanced from the other boys started to annoy me. 

"Harry?" Niall asked softly, "He wanted to come." 

"I don't care that he isn't here, Niall. I really, really don't. I don't need him to survive," I said, working hard to keep my voice steady. 

I knew they all doubted my statement. 

Suddenly, my phone buzzed and I picked it up. 

"Hello?" I asked. 

"Hazza? Um, so the electricity in my flat is out, so I was wondering if maybe me and El could hang at yours? You guys won't be back for a while anyways," Louis said. 

I sucked in a breath sharply and my grip tightened on my phone. 

"Of course I don't mind, Lou," I lied, "It's fine. Don't burn the place down." 

"Thanks Haz. You're amazing. Love you!" Louis cheered, hanging up. 

"Okay, now I'm not fine," I snarled, wanting to break my phone into tiny pieces. 

I couldn't lie, the other three had to be blind not to see how angry I had suddenly got. 

They looked at me curiously and I paused to collect myself before I explained myself. 

"The electricity is out at Lou's flat so he and Eleanor are hanging out at mine. Besides, we'll be out for a while anyways like he said," I growled bitterly. 

"You could have said no," Niall suggested weakly. 

"And seem like an utter tosser for now legitimate reason? I don't really feel like explaining myself to him right now," I snapped. 

He looked away guiltily and I sighed. 

"I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tense," I apologized as we pulled up to Niall's favorite restaurant. 

He brightened as we walked inside, and even more so when we got our food a while later. 

The warm smell of the food made my stomach flip unpleasantly, but I forced myself to take a bite. 

I managed to eat much more than I thought I would, but I felt like I was going to throw up. 

"Harry? You're being really quiet," Liam commented. 

"I'm always quiet," I mumbled. 

I knew that he didn't like my answer, but he sighed and went back to talking to Niall and Zayn. 

After our dinner, we decided to walk around London for a bit. 

I knew that we were doing it to give Louis and Eleanor more alone time and nobody said it in fear of upsetting me. 

I kept my head down and jaw locked. Nausea rolled through me, but I didn't mention it. I had felt sick during breakfast and it had passed. 

Two hours later, after some drinks, I knew this wasn't passing. 

I leaned my head against the cool window of Liam's car and shut my eyes, praying I wouldn't vomit in his car. 

When we got back, the lads decided to come in with me. 

It was moral support. We all saw Eleanor's car as we got out. 

I stumbled into the flat, and was greeted with a high-pitched shriek. 

Wandering in dizzily, I looked for the source. 

Eleanor was underneath Louis, laughing as he tickled her. 

"Hello!" Liam called as we came in. 

Louis looked up and grinned. 

"Hey mates!" he greeted. 

"Help!" Eleanor gasped, "He's killing me." 

"Oh, you love it. Almost as much as I love you," Louis purred, running his nose against hers. 

That was to much for both my heart and my stomach. 

Everyone's eyes went to me as I coughed harshly. 

"I'm going to be sick," I mumbled, escaping to the bathroom where I was, in fact, sick. 

I stayed in there for a while, my cheek against the cold floor. 

I had the door opened so they wouldn't assume I was cutting, although I wanted to desperately. 

I finally picked myself up from the floor after I heard Eleanor leave and made my way back towards the lads. 

"Is he alright?" Louis's hushed voice asked. 

"I think he forced himself to eat more than he's ready for," Liam responded. 

I stood in the doorway, but neither of them noticed my presence. 

"How much did he eat?" Louis asked. 

Ugh. They were gossiping about me. 

"Maybe like a little less than a third of his food?" Liam guessed. 

It had been about a fourth, truthfully. 

"That's not much at all, Li. Maybe he's sick," Louis said. 

"Louis, you can't just go from eating one decent meal in a week for about a year to just eating like a healthy person. His stomach shrank. He can't eat very much. In fact, I'm surprised he was even able to eat as much as he has today," Liam said sternly. 

I couldn't see Louis's face, but I saw his muscles tense. 

"Well maybe he shouldn't have fucking starved himself then!" he snapped. 

"He didn't do it intentionally," Liam growled. 

"Li, you can't just starve unintentionally. Why the hell did he even do it, anyways? Was it for attention? Isn't that usually what anorexia is for? Because when you're world famous, you get plenty of attention. So that's a bullshit excuse for losing so much weight," Louis snarled, "Is he some kind of attention whore now?" 

Okay. 

That hurt, a lot. 

"Louis!" Liam snapped, "What the hell? He's not anorexic, and it's not for publicity!" 

"I'm serious, Liam!" Louis spat, "Isn't that what this is all about? My attention? It makes sense. The minute I pay more attention to him, pity him, he starts eating again. You said it's about me. He's a grown boy, he doesn't need me to hold his hand for everything he does! This is ridiculous and immature. He's acting like a spoiled girl." 

I couldn't hold back a soft sob. 

But apparently it wasn't soft enough. 

Liam and Louis swiveled around. I saw the way Liam's eyes blazed with absolute fury. He was pissed off at Louis, I could tell. But it didn't help lessen my pain at all. 

"So you think this is all about you?" I asked, my voice surprisingly controlled and cold, "You think I want your attention? How about this, Louis. Yes, it has something to do with you. But truthfully, I don't want your attention at all. Actually, you even being here is making me want to go take a razor to my wrist. Ask Liam. The very thought of you makes me cut. Makes me sick to my stomach." 

It was true, but I made it sound like I hated him, which was not true. 

"Hazza, I'm so sorry. I just got upset and-" 

I fled, sprinting into my room and slamming the door, the walls shaking with its force. 

I locked it and flung myself onto my bed, letting the tears cascade down my face. My body shook violently as I sobbed. 

He thought I was some attention whore? He thought I did it for attention? 

I felt sick again, but there was nothing left to throw up. 

There was a frantic knocking at my door. 

It was Louis. I could tell. You know you love somebody when you can tell its then just by the way the knock. 

"Get the fuck away! Get out of my flat!" I screamed, my throat aching from crying so hard. 

"Hazza I didn't mean any of it, I'm serious! Please, just let me in," Louis wailed. 

I got up, struggling to control my sobs. 

"I didn't mean it, I swear!" he repeated. 

I opened the door and his eyes widened with relief. 

"Thank god. Seriously Haz, I didn't mean what I said," he whispered. 

I looked at him coldly. 

"The funny thing is Lou, I did mean everything that I said." 

Then I slammed the door in his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry's POV

I woke up with my head feeling stuffy and like it was full of cotton. My eyes burned and my face felt stiff. 

This wasn't an unusual feeling. It happened every time I woke up after crying myself to sleep. 

I'd heard Liam and Louis having a full out scream-off after Louis had finally given up banging on my door, pleading for me to understand. 

Actually, he hadn't wanted to stop. By the sounds I had heard, Liam had forcibly dragged him away. 

I hadn't been able to understand what they were shouting; I had been crying to hard. But one thing I knew was that Liam was pissed off. He was absolutely beyond furious with Louis. I appreciated him for this because I didn't have to strength to be mad. 

Honestly, I'd already forgiven Louis the second he'd apologized. But his words still hurt. 

'Attention whore' was the worst. If it was up to me, I'd leave the band and go to some private island with no Internet or television or anything that connected me with the media. I was sick and tired of always being scrutinized. I didn't want the attention; I hated it. 

Legitimately leaving the band had crossed my mind so many times that I couldn't count them. But I always forced myself to stay for the other lads' sakes. 

That's why being called an attention whore hurt. Not because it was rude, but because it proved how little Louis knew about me, when we used to tell each other everything. 

My phone lit up on the night stand and I groggily reached for it. 

Holy shit I had a lot of messages. 

I had over two hundred from Louis, fifty from Liam, eleven from Zayn, and six from Niall. The most recent one was from Niall.

'Interview today mate. xx'

I grimaced. Great. 

I probably had puffy, bloodshot eyes, not to mention the dark bags that I knew would be under them. 

I slowly sat up and sighed, shuffling out of my room. I just wanted to go back to bed, cry a little, and sleep the rest of the day. 

Not surprisingly, Liam was in my flat still. 

He looked up at me when I entered, grimacing at my appearance. 

"I literally had to throw him out. Like pick him up and carry him out of the door," he said quietly, concern for me mixing with anger with Louis in his eyes. 

I didn't reply. Instead, I headed into the kitchen and debated if I should eat or not. 

Liam appeared in the doorway and watched me dig through my fridge. The cold air hit my shirtless chest and made me shiver. 

I could feel Liam's eyes burning into the scars littering my torso. Sometimes I cut my stomach or hips as well as my wrist. Actually, I kind of cut everywhere in general. 

Or maybe he was looking at the way my ribs were so sharply protruding out that they seemed to be about to rip through my skin. 

I had to grimace at that idea. 

Finally, Liam spoke. 

"Harry, I...I can't even begin to tell you how unbelievebly angry I am at Louis right now. Zayn and Niall are as well. I told them about what...what happened," he sighed. 

I turned and faced him, a slight sad smile on my lips. 

"Hopefully you're mad enough for both of us. I couldn't ever be angry with him," I said softly, "That's how fucked up this is. I can't even be mad at him when he calls me an attention whore for not eating." 

Liam's eyes slanted. I knew he was angry at Louis, not me, but I still flinched slightly. His eyes softened. 

"You should have never made me tell him, Liam. He would have been fine if we told him I passed out because the flash was to bright. Now all this shit has started happening," I snapped, my frustration building. 

Liam sighed and leaned against the doorframe. 

"Harry, Louis would have eventually found out. He would have seen people tweeting him and asking if he was okay, or he would have gotten asked by a pap why you lost so much weight and he would have found out by himself. He's really stressed Harry. He was bawling two nights ago because he's scared you're going to die. Quite frankly, we all are. It doesn't give any excuse for his behavior, but he's just...stressed and upset. He really didn't mean what he said, Harry," Liam said. 

I stayed silent, pulling out a slice of cheese and nibbling on it unenthusiastically. I stared at a spot past Liam's shoulder, trying to tune him out. 

I wasn't in the mood to hear him go on and on about things that have already been said. 

"Do you ever wonder if...if maybe you are overreacting a little bit? Like maybe...you're convincing yourself that it hurts a lot more than it really does?" 

Okay. That definitely got my attention. 

I immediately stiffened and stared him straight in his eyes. 

He hit his lip uncertainly, but held my gaze. 

Impressive. 

"First of all, Liam, I wouldn't expect you to even begin to understand. I know that Danielle broke up with you, but you know you guys are going to get back together. You miss each other way to much. But what if she had broken up with you because she had met somebody else and she didn't give a shit about how you felt? How would you feel?" I snarled. 

Liam blinked and dropped his gaze. 

"Pretty...pretty crappy, I guess," he mumbled. 

"And what if she didn't notice how shitty you felt and she just acted like her usual self around you? And she never shut up about her wonderful, amazing boyfriend that she's planning on marrying someday, and how he's perfect for her and can't imagine life without her and she doesn't even notice you stop eating or when you completely slice the shit out of yourself over her and the fans think they're the cutest thing ever and-" 

"Harry!" Liam snapped, "I get it. You're getting yourself worked up." 

I looked at the balled-up and crushed slice of cheese in my hands, digging my thumbs into it. 

It was kind of like a stress ball or something. It just smelled cheesier and little bits were stuck under my nails. 

"Sorry," I muttered, "But do you see why I'm so hurt?" 

"Yeah, I actually do," Liam replied. 

I tried to smirk at him, but I'm pretty sure it came across as an exhausted grimace. 

"Go get dressed for the interview. We're supposed to be there in an hour and I like being early," Liam instructed, but his eyes were soft with sympathy. 

Sympathy and pity from the other boys tended to bother me, but right now, I didn't mind it. It was probably the fact that I was miserable and exhausted. 

I grumbled something and lazily walked to my room. I glanced into a mirror and wasn't surprised by the redness of my eyes. It had become a pretty usual sight. 

"Harry, hurry up!" Liam called. 

I'd been lost in thought. 

I scrambled to pull on a random pair of trousers and a jumper before heading back to him. 

"Ready," I sighed. 

As usual, the ride to the interview was silent, but for once, it wasn't necessarily my fault. Usually I blatantly ignored the boys if they tried to talk to me, but today, they all seemed like they were lost in their thoughts. 

Louis kept looking at me pleadingly, but he seemed to scared to say anything. 

Honestly, I hadn't wanted to even ride in the same van as him, but I had to. We all lived in the same complex, and it would be weird if I just randomly went by myself. 

I absently scratched my wrist. The newer cuts were healing and they were itchy. 

Louis's pleading look turned into a dark scowl. He looked up and stiffened when he saw me looking back at him. 

I kept my face blank as I stared into his eyes. They were such a beautiful blue...I felt myself getting lost in them; he was hypnotizing me. 

"We're here," our driver sighed, shutting the car off. 

He had effectively ruined my and Louis's stare-off, and we both jumped about a foot at the sound of his voice. 

I got out quickly, moving to stand by Liam, who had already gotten out. He wrapped his arm around me comfortingly as we headed towards the building. 

I drifted off into my own thoughts as Lou, our stylist, fussed over me, trying to hide the bags under my obviously blood-shot eyes. 

"What did I say?" she grumbled, "You need to get some decent sleep." 

"And I said that I can't," I muttered back. 

She frowned. 

"Why not? I just realized I've never asked before," she said. 

I shrugged, but I couldn't help but glance quickly at Louis. 

Unfortunately, Lou noticed and gasped. 

"You love him," she hissed. 

How the hell...? 

I had glanced at him for half a second and she had managed to figure it out! 

"I've always had my suspicions, but now it makes perfect sense! Oh, Harry," she murmured, hugging me, "If you ever need anything, you know I'm here." 

I had heard that speech so many times. And not once had it helped. 

But I forced a smile, like I was so good at doing, and nodded. 

"Boys, you're on soon!" a pretty assistant said, sticking her head in. 

I watched Niall study her, then decide not to pursue anything. 

Liam, Louis and Zayn were to busy texting their own girlfriends to worry about another girl. 

And I was to busy holding the broken pieces of my heart together as Louis smiled down at his phone, undoubtably talking to Eleanor. He had this 'Eleanor face' that he got whenever he talked to her. 

Minutes later, we were heading into a room. It wasn't a live interview, but it was going to be recorded. 

I spent most of the time staring off into space, absorbed in my own thoughts. It was only when Niall smacked my arm to get my attention that I was brought back into reality. 

"What?" I asked, shifting slightly. 

"I asked if you were alright," the interviewer chuckled, "You were out of it." 

"Oh. No, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I suppose," I said quickly. 

"That's good, then. So there are a ton of rumors going around. Is it true that you passed out during a photoshoot the other day?" she asked. 

I had been hoping that I wouldn't have to talk about it, but I had figured that I would have to. 

"Yeah, it's true," I muttered. 

"Why, exactly? There are a lot of rumors that it was from malnutrition or starvation," she said. 

I gritted my teeth. 

Thankfully, Liam answered for me. 

"He wasn't feeling well at all, but we kind of forced him to go. A lot of people are saying he passed out from starvation because we asked what he had eaten when he woke up, and he hasn't eaten much. He's not starving himself, he's just been pretty sick the past week and not hungry," Liam lied fluidly. 

The interviewer nodded. 

"We were all worried. It isn't a secret that you haven't been looking the healthiest lately," she said sympathetically to me. 

"Can we stop talking about this?" Louis snarled suddenly. 

We all looked at him. 

He was gripping the chair he was in so hard that his knuckles were white. His jaw was clenched and his muscles were as well. 

"Um. Yeah, sure," the interviewer said awkwardly. 

Niall leaned over and whispered something to Louis, but I couldn't hear what. 

The rest of the interview went smoothly, but Louis was noticeably quieter and only spoke when directly spoken to, which was highly unusual for him. 

When we left, after talking to a few fans waiting outside, Louis hurried to catch up to me. 

"Harry!" he whined. 

I turned around. 

"Yeah?" I asked. 

His eyes widened in surprise. Apparently he hadnt expected me to actually turn around. 

He bit his lip and looked up at me through his eyelashes. It was the perfect picture of guilt and innocence. 

"Look, Hazza, I'm so, so sorry for what I said. I know I'm in no place to say this, but I'm just so stressed and worried and I guess I just lost control," he said. 

I looked at him incredulously. 

"It's been what, two days? I've been living with this for over a year, Lou," I said. 

He looked down at his feet. 

"I know. But I'm really sorry, Haz. I didn't mean it, I swear," he whimpered. 

I frowned and shrugged. 

"S'cool," I muttered. 

My half-hearted forgiveness seemed to mean a whole lot more to Louis than it did to me. 

His whole face lit up and he flung his arms around me, making me stumble back. 

"Get off," I grunted, trying not to fall over. 

Louis quickly stepped back, flushing slightly, but he grinned. 

"I was such a jerk, I really am sorry," he said softly. 

I have him a tiny half-smile. 

"It's fine, Lou. Let just go, yeah?" I said. 

He nodded. 

Liam cast me a doubtful glance, and I shook my head. 

I couldn't be mad at Louis. 

Not when I loved him so much.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry's POV

Somehow Louis ended up back at my flat, even though Liam gave him a nasty glare when Louis suggested that he and I hang out. 

We had to get up disgustingly early to fly to New York, where we would perform at Madison Square Garden. 

But I agreed. 

We were watching some movie and talking and laughing. It was like normal. 

These were the moments that I cherished, yet hated. 

I loved that it was just me and Louis, best mates like old times again. 

I hated that it was just me and Louis, best mates like old times again. 

I wished it was just me and Louis, boyfriends. Fiancées. Husbands. 

He was sprawled across my couch with his head on my lap. Every time he laughed at something I said, or he said, I saw the beautiful sparkle of his eyes. 

He was so happy. 

So why wasn't I? 

Louis smiled up at me and I attempted a grin back at him. He sighed happily and sat up, only to slide closer to me and lay his head on my shoulder. 

"I missed this," he said softly. 

I knew what he was talking about, but I asked anyways. 

"Missed what?" I asked. 

"This. Us. Just being together. We haven't just hung out with the two of us in a while. We used to always be together, Hazza," he said. 

He picked up his head to press a gentle kiss to my neck before setting it back down on my shoulder. 

He'd done this many, many times. He gave all of us lovebites. 

He hadn't done it in ages, though. Since he'd moved out, the silly, joking touches, bites, and kisses had all but disappeared. 

But there was something so intimate, so caring about the action that I couldn't restrain the tiny flame of hope that lit in my stomach. 

No. 

We would never be together. There was no hope, I sternly thought to myself. 

I had to dig my nails into my wrist to cover the emotional want with physical pain. 

"We got busy," I said lamely, "You got your own place so we weren't always together anymore." 

Louis sighed. 

"That's no excuse. You're my best mate. I should have put aside more time for you. Maybe then you wouldn't be like this," he said. 

He quickly realized what he had just said, and turned bright red. 

Louis had a tendency of not having a filter on his mouth, and he'd gotten in trouble for it multiple times. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, sitting up. 

"It's fine. It's not your fault, though," I assured him. 

Well, it technically was. Maybe if he wasn't so bloody perfect then I wouldn't have fallen so hard for him. 

He frowned. 

"We used to tell eachother everything, Hazza. What changed?" he whispered, searching my eyes. 

I fell in love with you, I thought. 

"I don't know," I lied instead, proving his point. 

I remembered a time, many times, where we stayed up literally all night, just talking and cuddling. We'd laughed together, even cried at one point when my girlfriend had broken up with me. That was around the time my crush had started. 

I'd realized I loved him during one of these talks. 

After my realization, we'd never had another. 

Louis was currently staring at me, his eyes wide and perfectly innocent looking. 

"What's really going on, Hazza? Why can't you tell me?" he breathed. 

I felt the urge to lean forwards and kiss him. I bit my lip until the warm, iron taste of blood filled my mouth instead and I looked down. 

"Boo," I sighed, his nickname feeling strange on my tongue. I hadn't said it in so long. 

"I want to understand. I want to help," he whined. 

If I looked at him, I'd crack. 

"Listen, Boo. If I thought that you should know, I'd tell you. I promise that you'll know eventually. I just...I'm not comfortable with you knowing right now, okay?" I said gently. 

Louis sniffed and I realized alarmingly that he was crying. 

I looked up and saw the tears welling up in his eyes. 

"Oh, Boobear, don't cry," I whispered. 

But he did. 

And eventually I couldn't help myself and started crying as well. Louis's laugh was contagious, and apparently him crying was as well. 

We sat there, clinging onto eachother as we cried into eachother's shirts. 

We eventually stopped crying. 

Louis cautiously picked up my hand and studied my wrist, analyzing the pink and white of the old scars and the red of the newest cuts. 

He sighed heavily and touched them, his fingertips ghosting over the slight bumps they created. 

He lifted my hand and gently pressed a kiss to my wrist. 

There was a jolt of electricity that came from his lips and flew through my body. 

Oh God. 

My tears immediately started again and came so hard and fast that I could barely breath. 

"Haz? Hazza, what's wrong?" he asked, voice filled with worry. 

I shook my head. I couldn't speak. 

What was wrong was what I felt when he did that. The sincere love that I knew he felt for me was painful. The affection and caring way he'd pressed his lips to my cuts had sent an intense thrill through my body. But it wasn't the kind of love from him that I wanted. His was strictly platonic. 

I wanted those lips on mine. And I couldn't have that. 

"Oh, Hazza, it's alright," he cooed, tugging me onto his lap. 

"I can't take it," I gasped inbetween sobs. 

"Shhh...it's okay," he murmured into my hair, which only produced a fresh wave of tears from me. 

I fell asleep like that, in his arms. 

Where I belonged.

 

'Heard you're in NY. Wanna meet up? -Taylor' 

I read the text as I got off the plane and smiled to myself. I'd hung out with Taylor Swift multiple times. She was a sweet girl and I liked her. I had no romantic interest in her, but she was nice as a friend. 

'Sure. We just landed. -Harry' 

'Are you doing anything today? -Taylor' 

'I don't think so. We've got a couple free days before the concert. So want to do something in like an hour? -Harry' 

'Sure! -Taylor' 

We made plans and I couldn't help but smile. Maybe she could take my mind off of Louis. 

Louis had been quite grumpy when he woke up. It was probably due to us staying up rather late. But he'd gotten into a better mood on the plane and chatted with me the entire time. 

I loved talking to Louis. He'd bring up the most random topics. 

"Why are you smiling, Hazza? It's kinda creepy," Louis said, sitting next to me as we entered the van after fighting through a giant crowd of fans. 

"Nothing. I'm hanging out with Taylor today," I replied. 

I felt a bit guilty telling him that, but I knew I shouldn't. 

"Swift?" he asked. 

"Yeah," I said. 

He grinned. 

"Ooooh, are you going to snog her? Or are you just going to skip to shagging her?" he laughed. 

I rolled my eyes. The other lads had quit teasing me about my 'crush' on Taylor once they found out that I was madly in love with my best mate and that the said 'crush' did not exist. 

However, Louis had obviously never gotten the memo. 

Niall had overheard the conversation and turned around to raise his eyebrows at me. 

"Thought you didn't like her anymore, mate," he commented casually. 

He must have recieved a smack from Zayn because Niall yelped and turned to glare at him. 

Zayn stared back, eyes widened innocently. 

"What?" Louis asked, confused, "I thought you had a massive crush on her." 

"I do," I said through gritted teeth, glaring at Niall, "Stupid leprechaun's got his facts mixed up." 

Niall rolled his eyes at me and mouthed something quite rude. I flipped him off in retaliation. 

"You're in a good mood today, Harry," Liam commented once we arrived at the hotel, letting the other boys walk past us. 

I shrugged. 

"Why?" he asked. 

"I dunno," I replied. 

I really didn't. 

"Do you think maybe you're getting better?" he asked. 

I shook my head and smiled sadly at him. He wanted me to get better, everyone did, including myself. But it just wasn't going to happen. 

"Everyone has their good days, Li. That's just how it is," I said quietly. 

"Hazza!" Louis yelled from up ahead, "Wanna share a room with me tonight?" 

I flinched. 

No. 

No. 

Bad idea. 

Very, very bad idea. 

Incredibly very bad idea. 

The worst idea in the history of incredibly very bad ideas. 

"Yeah!" I found myself calling back. 

Liam looked at me, surprised. 

"Fuck," I snarled under my breath. 

"Why'd you say yes if you don't want to?" Liam asked. 

"I have no idea," I grumbled as we caught up to Louis, Niall, and Zayn. 

"I figured once Eleanor gets here tomorrow, we'll just get a different room. But we can be together tonight, just like old times, yeah?" Louis asked. 

I knew he'd want to be by himself with Eleanor. And the thought of the reason why he'd want to be by himself with her made my stomach turn and I dug my nails into my palms. The brief flash of pain calmed me. 

But I couldn't refuse him. His bright blue eyes shone with hope. He really wanted things to go back to normal with us. 

I nodded tensely. 

"Of course, Lou," I said, feigning a light tone as best as I could. 

He grinned and pulled me into what I had to assume was our room. 

He ran inside and jumped playfully on top of the nearer of the two beds, smiling at me from where he was sprawled at. 

"So what time are you meeting up with Taylor?" he asked, patting a space beside him. 

I sat down, careful not to touch him, avoiding the spark I'd feel if we touched. 

"In like an hour," I replied. 

Louis sat up and scrambled back so that he was leaning against the pillows. 

He gestured for me to come lay beside him, but I shook my head. I'd already gotten to close the previous night. 

He frowned, but didn't seem to think much of my refusal. 

"I'm glad," he said quietly, "You barely talk to anyone outside of the band anymore." 

"I don't want to talk about that," I snapped harshly. He flinched. 

I hated hurting him, but I couldn't risk breaking down in front of him again and having him touch me so gently and lovingly like he had the previous night. 

"'M sorry," he mumbled. 

"It's fine," I sighed. 

He frowned suddenly and sat up to pick a hair off of my shirt. 

His fingers grazed my collar bone and I jerked back at the touch. 

His frown deepened. 

"You shocked me," I lied. 

He smiled, buying the lie. It was more like a half-truth. He had shocked me, but it was the kind of shock that you only feel when the person you love touches you; the electricity that you feel when you kiss them. 

He nodded and laid back down. 

"I'm bored," he finally said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

"Can't help you very much there. I need to leave in like twenty minutes," I replied. 

Louis pouted and I felt a tiny thrill as I watched his lips pucker. If only they would do that when he kissed me. 

There was a short knock on our door before Liam strolled in, smugly holding up an extra key to our room. 

"Harry, I need help with something," he said, giving me a look that said clearly that he needed nothing of the sort. 

I nodded for Louis's benefit and followed Liam out of the room. 

Once we were in the safety of Liam's room, he turned to me, expression stem. 

"Why are you really seeing Taylor?" he asked. 

"Because I like her? She's nice and I haven't seen her for a while," I replied casually. 

"You're not seeing her to take you mind off of Louis? Because I can assure you that if you're just using her, then it's not going to end well," he said. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"So I can't go and hang out with a friend anymore without getting accused of using them? Maybe I actually like being with her! I never said that I'm going to start dating her!" I snapped, "You know that I don't want anybody but Louis! I can't handle even the idea of being in a relationship that isn't with him!" 

Liam's features softened, but his expression remained stern. 

"Harry, you know that the press will see you two together and make assumptions," he warned. 

"Then I'll confirm that we aren't in a relationship. Big deal. I'm with a new girl every week according to them," I sighed in exasperation. 

He frowned, but he knew I was right. 

"Alright. Just be careful, okay?" he asked gently. 

I nodded. 

"I find the very idea of snogging her disgusting," I snorted. 

He smiled and pushed me towards the door. 

I left and went back to my and Louis's room. 

"What'd Liam want?" he asked. 

"Just asking if I'd ever given him back that one jumper I took a while ago," I lied. 

It seemed like everything I'd been saying to Louis lately was a lie. I hated lying to him; it didn't feel right. But I had to. I needed to protect both he and myself. 

"Oh," he said simply. 

I nodded and sat on the bed next to his. 

"So is Eleanor coming tomorrow?" I asked, my stomach twisting as I said her name. 

"Yeah. You know, it's funny Haz, I saw her like two days ago, and I miss her already," he laughed softly. 

I prayed he didn't notice me flinch. Why couldn't he feel that way about me? 

"You really love her, don't you?" I asked quietly. 

What was I doing? I knew the answer and I knew how badly it was going to hurt hearing him say it. 

Louis gave me a small grin. 

"Yeah, I really do. It just feels so incredibly right with her. One day you'll understand, I just know it. But Harry, I think she's the one," he said dreamily. 

I wanted to throw up. 

So I just faked a smile and prayed that he didn't see the rapidly forming tears in my eyes as he went on. 

"You know how in every romance story ever created they talk about those sparks and fireworks? I feel that with her, Hazza, I really do. I don't think I'll ever want anyone but her," he said. 

I stood up quickly. 

"That's great, Lou," I said, hoping that he didn't hear the cracking in my voice, "I'm going to get ready." 

I stepped into the loo and shut the door. 

I slid down the wall, trying to quiet my sobs. 

I eyed Louis's razor that he already had placed by the sink. Usually I did it with one blade that I'd broken off of a razor, but I didn't care. 

I needed that sense of relief. I needed it almost as much as I needed Louis. 

Tears still dripping down my face, I stretched and grabbed the razor off of the sink. 

I didn't hesitate before pressing it down hard on my wrist and slowly slid it across. 

Several uneven lines of red immediately followed the sharp stinging sensation. 

I smiled to myself and watched the blood trickle down my wrist for a few moments. 

I sighed and stood, rinsing my wrist and the razor off. It had gotten a small drop of blood on it. 

As I washed my wrist off, I realized that I needed some sort of bandage. 

I looked under the sink, sighing in relief when I noticed a few band aids that the hotel must have provided. 

They were small, so I unwrapped all four of them and put them on before I fixed my bracelets and walked back out to Louis. 

He smiled at me and I felt a twinge of regret. He didn't know that I'd just cut myself with the same razor that he would likely use in less than a day. 

"Leaving soon?" he asked. 

I nodded, sliding on my shoes. 

"Pretty much now," I said. 

Once I'd gotten a jumper and beanie on, I left the room, grateful that I didn't have to look into his innocent, trusting eyes any longer. 

One of our guards drove me to the restaurant that I was meeting Taylor at. 

(A/N I know that they went to a zoo or something with Lux, but I'm not really going to be super accurate when it comes to places and times) 

She arrived a minute after me, and grinned as she saw me. 

She sat down next to me after giving me a hug. 

"Hey!" she greeted. 

"Hey. You look great," I said lightly. 

"Thanks! So how's it been going? I haven't seen you in ages!" Taylor said happily. 

We talked for a while before ordering food. 

The one thing that was kind of annoying about Taylor was that she was always so happy. 

It didn't seem like a bad thing, but I wasn't exactly the happiest person. 

She frowned at my barely touched plate, but didn't comment. I sincerely appreciated that. 

After we ate, she ate, I picked at my food, we walked around the city. 

"We're having an after party after the concert. You could be my date," I suggested. 

Taylor grinned. 

"I'd love to!" she agreed, "So how long are you staying here for?" 

"In New York? Not counting today, like five days or so," I said, "What about you?" 

She shrugged. 

"Pretty much that long," she replied. 

As we continued talking, I found myself wondering what dating her would be like. I felt no romantic attraction with her, but it would be a good distraction. I hadn't had a legitimate, serious relationship since I'd discovered my feelings for Louis. Maybe I could try this and see where it led. Maybe I'd end up getting feelings for her. I had to surpress a snort. As if. 

I could always break up with her if it got to overwhelming for me. 

I tuned back into her chattering, absently paying attention as she went on and on about her upcoming plans and how we could hang out during the breaks. 

I felt a little uncomfortable. We were only walking around together. She was acting like we were already dating. Maybe this would make it easier, though. 

I noticed it was starting to get dark. 

She noticed as well. 

"You could come back to my hotel with me," Taylor said quietly, smirking. 

I knew that if I did, we wouldn't be sitting around and talking all night. 

"The boys might wonder where I am," I argued. 

Taylor shrugged. 

"Text or call them to let them know," she said, putting her hand on my arm, "I'd really like it if you did." 

I swallowed uncomfortably. 

"Sure," I found myself agreeing. 

Did I not have control over my own mouth anymore? 

First agreeing to room with Louis, now this. 

Oh. Louis. I knew he wanted to room with me so that we could connect and get our old friendship back. 

We could do that any time, though. He'd understand. 

After all, he was always blowing me off for Eleanor. 

"Great! So, maybe you should get some things from your hotel first?" she suggested, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

I nodded. 

I ordered the guard that had been discreetly trailing us to drive us to my hotel. 

"You should probably wait here," I told her once we arrived. 

Taylor nodded. 

"Of course," she agreed. 

I managed to get past the fans that were already hanging by the entrance. 

When I arrived at my and Louis's room, I found that he wasn't there, to my relief. 

I quickly grabbed a change of clothes and a small bag for my toothbrush and other things. I slipped my razor blade inside as well. I knew that I'd want it later. 

I hurried back to the car, not wanting to keep her waiting to long. 

"See the boys?" she asked. 

I shook my head. 

"Niall probably dragged them out to eat. I'll call Louis or something later," I said, knowing that I'd probably forget. 

When we arrived at the hotel, she got out of the car first, instructing me to wait ten minutes before following. 

When I did, I knew that I was getting photographed by tons of people. 

I was walking into Taylor Swift's hotel, carrying things for the night. They knew we wouldn't be playing board games. 

I texted her, realizing that I had no idea what room she was in. 

She replied and I quickly headed to it. 

I knocked on the door and it opened. 

She stood before me, clad only in a robe, smirking. 

"Well?" she asked, pulling me inside. 

I set my things down and kicked my shoes off before I approached her. 

Taylor giggled and pulled me close, sloppily pressing her lips to mine. 

I tried not to dry-heave as she forced her tongue into my mouth. 

When had we gone from walking and talking as friends to this? I'd missed that point, apparently. 

Taylor pulled me over to the bed and laid down, forcing me on top of her. 

I shut my eyes tightly, desperately trying to picture that I was kissing Louis instead. 

But the lips on mine weren't his. His were soft from the Chapstick he wore, but slightly rough because he was a guy. I knew from the time we'd snogged when he was drunk. 

But Taylor's were much to soft and sticky from the lipgloss she had on. I felt like our lips would get stuck together. 

I let her pull off my shirt. 

She giggled as she ran her hands over my extra nipples, trailing her tongue across them as well. 

Oh God. I really thought I might vomit. 

I wanted to back out, to run away, to make up some excuse to why we couldn't do this. I wasn't ready; it wasn't just because I was in love with somebody else. 

I was a virgin. 

I was known as the flirt, the man whore of the band, but in reality, I was the only one who had never had sex before. 

I'd come close multiple times, especially when I had been dating Caroline Flack. But as much of a bitch and slut that the fans thought she was, she had allowed me to set the pace for our relationship. She hadn't pressured me at all. That was part of the reason we had broken up. She wanted it and I didn't. 

Taylor's hand slipped into my pants and I gasped as it brushed against sensitive skin. 

I hated the very idea of this, but still. It was somebody touching my dick. It felt good regardless of how disgusting I found it. 

Taylor eventually wriggled out of her robe and I was ready to puke on her. 

But I forced myself to keep going. I had wanted to save myself for Louis. But I knew that it would never happen. 

So losing my virginity suddenly seemed a whole lot less important to me once I had realized that. 

It suddenly seemed like a stupid thing, really. It was having sex for the first time. Big deal. 

God, had falling in love really fucked all my ideas and thoughts up. 

But I now knew that I could never have who I really wanted to save myself for. 

So it didn't matter to me. 

So I let myself go. 

I just didn't have the strength to care anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry's POV

I pretty much knew what I was in for as I walked into my hotel. The numerous calls and texts from the boys, especially Louis and Liam, gave me a hint. 

I hesitated out of my and Louis's hotel room door. Sighing, I put the key in the door and opened it. 

Louis was sitting on his bed, scowling at his phone. Eleanor, who must have arrived earlier in the morning, sat next to him. 

Upon hearing the door opening, Louis looked up. When he saw me, he dropped his phone on the bed and jumped up. 

"What the hell were you thinking, Harry? The press are having a field day with this! Have you seen the shit they're saying about you? Do you know the horrible publicity that you're going to get because of this? God, we wouldn't have even known where the hell you were if I hadn't seen the pictures on Twitter!" Louis screeched furiously. 

I stood there, staring at him coldly. 

"So that's all you care about? All you're concerned about is bad publicity?" I growled. 

I hadn't intended on fighting. I had walked into the room, prepared to make peace with him, but the second I saw Eleanor with her hand on his arm...I knew that I couldn't be nice. I was jealous. 

Louis huffed. 

"Harry, I know how you deal with hate! I'm pissed about how stupid you were, staying at her hotel, but I'm worried to!" he snapped. 

"Yeah. You sound worried," I said sarcastically. 

"You fucking weigh 120 pounds and you've probably got about that many scars! How the fuck am I not supposed to be worried? And now you're staying with a girl you barely even know?" he snarled, "I know that you hate that everyone thinks that you're a manwhore, so why would you do that?" 

"Well a manwhore is only a little worse than an attention whore, isn't it Louis?" I shot back. 

He flinched, and I knew that I had hurt him. But I didn't let it phase me. 

"You've been seen with her like twice, and now everybody is assuming you're sleeping with her!" he snapped. 

I raised my eyebrows at him. 

"It's not necessarily an incorrect assumption, Louis," I said calmly. 

I'd seen Louis mad. I'd seen him happy. I'd seen him in every mood in between. 

But the look that he had on his face was one that I had never seen before. I couldn't even comprehend it. 

"Please tell me you're joking," he sighed heavily, "Just...please." 

"Then I'd be lying, Louis," I said. 

Eleanor looked incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do, but she stayed silent. 

"But you always talked about...waiting for somebody special, Harry, it was so important to you. You barely know Taylor. God dammit, what the hell is going on with you that's making you do this fucking insane shit?" Louis suddenly yelled. 

As angry as his voice was, his eyes were starting to well up, and I could only pray that he didn't cry, because then I would as well. 

"I just don't care anymore," I replied quietly. I hated lying to Louis, and this was one truth that I could tell him. 

He was biting his lip now, and I knew that he was struggling not to cry. I stared determinedly at the floor. 

"Why not?" he asked, his voice wobbling unsteadily, "What changed?" 

I didn't know what to tell him without telling him the truth. But I couldn't just not answer. 

"Things...happened. I realized something, and that was when everything changed," I answered carefully. 

He was quiet for a long time, and I knew that Eleanor was debating about leaving or not. I had to feel bad for her, this was a really awkward conversation/fight thing to hear. 

"What did you realize?" he finally asked. 

"I can't tell you," I mumbled. 

He huffed angrily. 

"Harry, for the love of God, I know you're not comfortable with telling me, but I just want to help you! You're destroying yourself over something that's apparently about me, and you're completely throwing away all of your values!" Louis cried, "I just want to know what the hell I've done to make you like this so that I can fix it! I hate seeing you like this!" 

Eleanor quietly slipped out of the room. 

"Louis, you literally can't do anything to help me. Nobody can," I snapped, "Just give it a rest, okay?" 

"What happened to when we told eachother everything? When did these secrets start? When did you start destroying yourself over something?" Louis asked, his voice strained. 

"What happened was that I f-" I stopped. 

Had I really just been about to tell him the biggest secret of my entire life? 

"You?" he coaxed. 

I turned around and hurriedly pulled my jumper on. 

"Where are you going?" he demanded. 

"To see Taylor," I replied, hoping he didn't detect that shakiness in my voice. 

"No you're not!" Louis snarled, grabbing my arm. 

So I told him where it was exactly that he could go, and then stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

 

Liam's POV

I heard the yelling from the room next door, Harry's and Louis's room, so I wasn't surprised when Harry knocked on my door. 

He entered and simply curled up on my bed and shook like a leaf. 

"What's wrong, Harry?" I asked gently. I was a little curious about what exactly he and Taylor had done at her hotel, but I figured that he would tell me if he wanted. 

"I almost told Louis; I almost told him everything," he mumbled, "I don't know why. But now I'm so scared that one day I'm going to just blurt out everything. I hate lying to him." 

I sighed and sat down on the bed. 

"Harry, what were you guys fighting about?" I asked. 

He hesitated, but sighed anyways. 

"I slept with Taylor," he whispered quietly. 

I had to admit, I was pretty surprised by his confession. I remembered a time where he had told me that he didn't care how long it took, he would make sure that Louis was his first time because Harry didn't love anybody else. 

"But...you always said you were going to wait," I said. 

"I gave up," he replied, and I saw a tear slip down his cheek, "I just gave up, Liam." 

He was hurting and I couldn't do a thing to help him, and that's what bothered me about this situation. 

"Oh Harry," I murmured. 

"What's the point of waiting for something that you're never going to get anyways?" he asked. 

I sighed. I didn't know how to answer. 

"It's hopeless, I know. I just wish that he would just...feel differently," Harry continued, "And I can't even hate her because she's so perfect for him and I can't hate him because...well, yeah, so I can only hate myself for being so stupid." 

I felt as hopeless as this situation was. So I just looked at broken, defeated boy on the bed and wished that things could go his way for once. I wished that he didn't have to live with all this pain and I wished that I could make it better somehow. But I knew that none of my wishes would come true. 

I knew Harry had fallen way to hard for Louis and that he would probably never get over it. If he couldn't have Louis, I wished that Harry could find somebody else who he could love just as much. But he was so obsessed and in love with Louis that I knew that that was equally as unlikely as Louis reciprocating Harry's feelings. 

"I'm not strong enough for this anymore, Liam. At first, I was convinced that I would do whatever it took to make things work out. But after two years, I'm just tired of everything. Of all the heartbreak and the tears and the fighting and just everything. I'm done, Liam, I'm too weak to do this anymore. I just don't have the strength," he whispered. 

"What are you saying?" I asked. Was he telling me that he was going to kill himself? 

Harry looked up at me, his once happy, sparkling green eyes now dull and full of tears. 

"I don't know, Liam. I honestly just don't know," he said quietly. 

"Harry," I sighed, "You are strong. You just need to keep pushing through, and one day things will get better." 

Anybody could hear the lie in my voice. 

"No they won't, Liam, and you know that! He's so happy and he's not going to suddenly leave her for me! This is real life, this isn't some stupid fan fiction that one of our fans is writing!" he snarled, standing up and pacing the room, "I don't get a happy ever after, I don't get to be swept off my feet, don't you understand that? This isn't something that's just going to blow over. I have to spend the rest of my life like this. I'll probably be his best man at his wedding, and that's going to hurt so much! I just don't know how much longer I can do this for!" 

Angry tears were spilling down his cheeks, and his hands were yanking at his hair. 

"I just can't do this, Liam! I just can't! I'm losing everything! I'm losing myself! I'm disgusting and stupid and I'm so fucking exhausted! I just can't do it!" he screamed. 

I was honestly scared. He'd broken down before, but I knew the underlying meaning of his words this time. 

He didn't know how much longer he could live like this for. And that's what scared me. 

"Cutting hardly works anymore, I don't feel the relief that I used to! I feel like throwing up every time that I fucking eat! God, I just fucking don't know what to do! You can't understand how hard this is. Yeah, I know Danielle broke up with you, but you know she'll be back! And I never get to know what it would be like with Louis!" 

Danielle had broken up with me and I missed her every single day. I had seen her in the morning, and realized how much I needed her. I was working on begging and pleading her to take me back. 

But I couldn't do anything but watch Harry crumble to pieces. There was nothing that anybody could do. 

"Harry, you need to calm down," I said quietly. 

He stopped pacing abrubtly and simply walked over and sat down calmly next to me. 

"I've tried so hard for so long, Liam. But I don't want to live if it has to be this way. I just don't think that I'm strong enough to do that." 

And that was the scariest thing that I had ever heard.

We were rehearsing on the MSG stage. Harry had hardly said a word after his breakdown in my room. 

He and Louis simply glared at each other. 

I remembered when they were inseparable. If you saw Harry, you could guarantee that Louis was within a few feet as well. If you saw Louis, Harry was right there. They'd clicked instantly, and we all knew that they had a special relationship. 

They hadn't minded the rumors, not really. It was funny to them, it was just a joke. They even played it up for the cameras sometimes. Half the time, Zayn, Niall, and I even speculated that they were together behind our backs. 

I'd only realized later that Harry wanted the rumors to be reality just as much as the Larry shippers. 

It was only recently that Louis had started to get annoyed with it, lashing out at fans who called them gay, or viciously denying it in interviews. 

And Harry never said a word. 

Their friendship had changed about a year ago, when Louis had met Eleanor. 

Harry had been absolutely crushed. 

Then all of a sudden, Louis spent more time with Eleanor than with him, and he was always talking about her, and then he moved out of their flat, and then he started getting angry with the Larry shippers. 

And Harry had to stand there and take it, pretending that it wasn't killing him inside. 

He'd started to push Louis away, talking to him and touching him less. And Louis honestly didn't seem to mind, or notice for that matter. 

Louis probably had stopped touching and talking to Harry just as much because he was trying to get people to quit calling him gay. It really bothered him. 

I hadn't noticed Harry's depression until it started getting serious, but if I had to guess, it probably started when Louis introduced him to Eleanor, his new girlfriend. 

Then the cuts started appearing and the weight started disappearing. 

Before Louis had found out about Harry's depression, them fighting was about as rare as penguins in the tropics. And now it seemed like it was the only thing that they could do. 

I passed Zayn and Niall. 

"I really need to talk to you guys when we get back to the hotel," I murmured before making my way to Louis. 

He was texting someone, most likely Eleanor, but he looked up when he noticed me approaching. 

"Hey, Liam," he said quietly. 

If Louis Tomlinson was being quiet, something was wrong. 

I sat down next to him. 

"I heard you and Harry fighting earlier today. What's up?" I asked. 

I knew they'd fought about Harry having sex with Taylor, but I had no idea how bad it had been or what had been said. 

Louis frowned and ran his hands over his face. 

"He slept with Taylor. He actually lost his virginity to somebody he barely knows, even though he's always talked about waiting for the right person. It just bothers me, you know, that whatever is going on with him is bad enough to make him just completely give up his values," he sighed, "And I really hate that I can't do anything about it." 

Well, that made two of us. 

"He came to see me right after, you know," I said. 

He looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"He said he was going to see Taylor," he said. 

"Guess he changed his mind. Look, Lou, I know that it's really hard on you to have to deal with this and not know why it's happening, but I really need to you take it easier on Harry. He's really...he's really starting to break, I think. He said some things today that really scared me, and I just need you to be nicer to him, even if it's hard," I said. 

Louis bit his lip and nodded. 

"What did he say?" he asked. 

I shook my head. 

"I promised him that I wouldn't talk about it," I lied. Truthfully, I just didn't want Louis to have to be more worried than he already was. 

"Alright," Louis sighed, but he was clearly irritated. 

He stood and got ready to leave. We went back to the hotel. Louis went out with Eleanor and I really didn't have a clue where Harry had gone. 

Zayn and Niall sat in my room, waiting for me to speak. 

"Harry came to see me earlier," I started, "He and Louis had just had a fight and he was pretty upset." 

"What'd they fight about?" Zayn asked. 

"Harry actually slept with Taylor and Louis got pissed off," I explained. 

They both stared at me. 

"Are you serious? Harry's like obsessed with Louis being his first time!" Niall exclaimed. 

I shrugged and smiled sadly. 

"When we were talking, he just...broke down. He went on and on about how he doesn't think he's strong enough to keep fighting anymore and how he's just giving up. And the thing that he told me that really worries me was, and I quote, 'I don't want to live if it has to be this way,'" I said quietly. 

"So do you think he's going to actually...," Zayn started, but trailed off, not wanting to say the words. 

"Try and kill himself?" I finished, "I honestly don't know. He's not stupid, he knows that One Direction needs him, that he'd hurt a lot of people if he did. But I don't know." 

I could see Niall's eyes welling up, and I knew that I wasn't far from that. Zayn's eyes were dark and guarded which meant he was struggling to control his emotions. 

"We've got to tell Simon or management or somebody who can actually help him," Zayn finally said, "We can't just sit here and patiently wait for him to tucking kill himself!" 

"Maybe we should give him a little time first. He was really trying to get better a few days ago, and I think Louis just really upset Harry, so he broke down. Maybe if things get better with them, Harry will start to try and get better again," Niall suggested. 

Zayn and I agreed, mostly because we knew that Harry would be furious and extremely upset if we told anybody, especially management or Simon, and it might only make things worse. 

"Alright," I sighed, "Well, I'm gonna go meet Danielle for a bit." 

Niall smiled at me, but I could see the sadness and fear for Harry lingering in his eyes. 

"Think you're going to get back together?" he asked. 

"I really hope so," I confessed, "I really love her." 

Even thinking about being with Danielle again seemed to make the entire room light up. 

"I hope things work out for you at least," Zayn said, "We don't need more than one fucked up relationship in the band." 

And just like that, the atmosphere in my room was dark again.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry's POV

 

Wake up. Fuck Taylor. Rehearse. Go out with Taylor. Fuck Taylor. Go to sleep. Repeat. 

That was my schedule for two days prior to the Madison Square Garden concert. 

It had only been three days since arriving in New York but I was already getting sick of Taylor. She was nice and sweet, yeah, but I got the feeling that she didn't want the casual relationship that I wanted. She was always talking about our future and making plans to see each other. I just wanted to take my mind of Louis. 

"Are you excited for tonight?" she asked, walking next to me. 

"Mm? Oh, uh, yeah," I replied, busy thinking about how the blue sky resembled Louis's eyes. 

"Have you seen the threats on Twitter? Some 'Mr. X' guy thing is blowing up," she said. 

"Yeah, I saw it. It's not a big deal, things like that happen a lot. But we've got a little extra security just to be safe," I answered. 

We hadn't gotten the extra security because of the threats; it was just a huge concert with a lot of people and they wanted to make sure we stayed safe with all the different fans that would be there. 

She nodded. 

"You know, I'm getting a lot of hate from your fans," she said, "But I honestly don't care as long as I'm with you." 

I wanted to gag at the sickly sweet statement. 

"Yeah, same," I lied. 

Taylor grinned at me, her obnoxiously bright red lips curving upwards. I didn't know how long I could pretend to be interested in her for. Honestly, I was quite gay. Women had lost their appeal to me long ago and Taylor was no exception. Actually, everyone but Louis had lost their appeal to me. 

"You okay? You're being quiet today," she commented a little while later. 

I fought the urge to shoot back a snarky reply. I was always quiet now, everyone knew that, so why didn't she? She wasn't anything special, I wasn't going to suddenly open up to her. But I swallowed a retort. 

"I guess I'm just a little nervous for tonight. It's our biggest performance ever," I sighed, fighting to keep from rolling my eyes when she hummed sympathetically. 

I actually was a little nervous, but I was more excited than anything. 

Excitement. 

It was such a foreign feeling to me, one that I hadn't felt in what seemed to be ages. 

I smiled to myself at the realization, and Taylor assumed it was meant for her, because she smiled back at me. 

"I'm still coming to the after party, right?" she asked. 

"Of course!" I replied. I honestly wondered how it would go. I'd be seeing Louis and Eleanor laugh and dance and snog and I'd have to pretend to be mad for Taylor at the same time. It would be hard, but if it got to overwhelming, I could just tell Taylor that I wanted to leave. 

Then we'd probably go back to her hotel and fuck. 

Louis was still sensitive regarding the subject of Taylor. He didn't like the idea of me supposedly being crazy for a girl that I hardly knew. He and I hadn't exactly been talking much during rehearsal, and things seemed to be slipping back into the comfortable cocoon where he allowed me to distance myself from him. 

Liam had tried to talk me out of continuing to be with Taylor, but I just shrugged it off, paying no mind to his warnings. None of the boys really knew why I was doing it; I could actually have feelings for her for all they knew. 

We walked around, going nowhere for a little while before we split up, me going to meet the boys while she went back to her hotel. 

I arrived at the stage a few minutes late, and Liam shot me a small frown as I grabbed my microphone. 

"Where were you?" he asked. 

"With Taylor," I replied, fussing with the switch on the mic, avoiding Zayn's curious look. Zayn had an unnatural ability to see right into people and I really didn't need him analyzing me. 

Louis was talking to Niall, but he looked up when I answered Liam's question. 

"You're always with her," he commented. 

I shrugged. 

"I like being with her," I replied. I heard Niall snort, but quickly try to cover it up with a cough. Louis gave him a strange look while Liam and Zayn rolled their eyes. 

I found myself looking directly into Louis's eyes across the stage, unable to free myself from his stare. He looked almost sad, and I knew it was because he could tell that our once close relationship was slowly crumbling to pieces. 

"Alright, well, we should probably get started," Liam finally said, breaking the tension. 

Louis tore his gaze away from me, staring determinedly at his shoes. 

We ran through the songs, but I knew that none of us were really getting into it. We were all distracted. 

When the rehearsal finally ended, we were told to start getting dressed and getting our makeup and hair done. 

I hated getting dressed in front of the boys. They always stopped and stared at my abnormally thin and scar-covered torso. Today was no exception, except for Louis. He stayed in the corner of the dressing room, changing quietly and keeping his eyes everywhere but me. 

Liam flinched slightly when I took my jumper off and I glared at him, quickly yanking on the new shirt. 

Lou smiled at me as I sat down in her chair and she carefully analyzed my face. 

"You look like you've been sleeping better," she commented, brushing a powder over my face. 

I watched the boys almost simultaneously try to discreetly listen to the conversation. 

"I guess," I mumbled. 

I hadn't noticed before then, but I realized that I had been sleeping better with Taylor than I had before. Probably because of how exhausted she made me. 

"Now we just have to fatten you up again," Lou added, choosing not to comment about my scars. 

I frowned slightly, but didn't move to much in fear that she would take my eyes out with whatever brush she was currently using. 

"He's been eating more," Liam said quietly, "I've noticed." 

"Can we not talk about this? You'll just do it behind my back later anyways, so save your breath now," I snapped. 

Needless to say, nobody said another word.

Performing at Madison Square Garden was unlike anything else we had ever done. 

As we stood on the stage, confetti falling around us, I knew what we were all thinking. 

We had actually done it. 

We had made it. 

Before I knew it, we were tackling eachother in a group hug, each of us giddy with pride and excitement. 

The fans screams were a soundtrack as we stood there, looking out, memorizing the feeling of absolute wonder. 

Had Liam not come back for a second audition, had Katy not said yes to Niall, had even one of us made it through as a solo act, had we not been called back, there would not be One Direction. We wouldn't be world famous and becoming compared to the Beatles. 

We were truly lucky. I found myself grinning at Louis and saw him smiling back at me as we said our final good-byes and heartfelt thank yous to our fans, our families, each other. 

We ran off stage, bouncing off the walls and screaming absolute nonsense, all of us high on adrenaline. 

We pounced on each other, hugging, laughing, yelling at the top of our lungs. 

"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?" I heard Niall scream as he was tackled by a hysterically laughing Louis. 

"I HAVE NO IDEA!" I shouted back. 

I was happy. This was what happiness felt like. I had all but forgotten the feeling. 

It took a good twenty minutes for us to calm down, our throats hoarse and bodies sweaty from jumping around. 

"That was absolutely brilliant," Louis sighed. 

"And we have an equally just as brilliant after party that we should be getting to," Liam said, struggling to move under Niall, who was sitting on top of him. 

We arrived at the after party, and I immedialty found Taylor. I didn't care when she quickly pecked my lips and gave me a tight hug. 

"I'm proud of you," she cooed. 

"I'm proud of me too," I replied and she laughed. 

We sang kareoke and I lifted her like the scene in Dirty Dancing. I actually ended up almost dropping her, but when she came down, she burst into laughter and I joined in, but I was forcing mine. 

I kept seeing Louis and Eleanor, happy, smiling, dancing LouisandEleanor. I'd talked to her for about three seconds and even that had been a little awkward. She was wary, I could tell, seeing as she had witnessed me and Louis fighting. 

Taylor was talking to Danielle, who looked a little irritated. I knew that I knew that I should go over and get Taylor, but my eyes were trained on a dancing Louis and Eleanor. He looked so happy and in love and I dug my nails into my palms as he leaned in to kiss her. 

My life was literally based off of our song 'I Wish'. 

"I hope you know what you're doing." 

I turned around to see my mum. I'd been practically tackled by her when I had first seen her after the concert, but we had gone our seperate ways. 

"Hmm?" I asked, still watching Louis as he laughed at something Eleanor said. 

"With Taylor. Harry, I know that you're hurting over Louis, but I don't think you should be using her like this. I know you're doing it to distract yourself, but you have to know that it's not going to end well," she said sternly. 

I sighed. 

"I know," I muttered, "But it's working, mum. Just for a little while longer and then I'll try to end things as friends." 

She raised her eyebrows at me. 

"Taylor Swift does not end things as friends, Harry. She's a sweet girl, but some of her songs can be nasty. You should probably know that by now," she said. 

"Then we won't end as friends. It's not going to break my heart, mum, I don't care about the bad publicity either. I just...I guess I don't really care about anything anymore," I sighed. 

My mum started to reply, but Taylor came over, putting her abnormally cold hand on my arm. 

"Hey, are you ready to go?" I asked, forcing a small smile. 

She nodded and flashed a smile at my mum. I'd seen them talking earlier. 

I said my goodbyes and thank yous and we headed out. 

I was relieved to get out of there, where Louis and Eleanor were still being painfully adorable, but I didn't want to go back to Taylor's hotel. 

We did anyways.

When it came time for us to leave New York a few days later, Taylor invited me to fly with her to London on her private plane. 

I agreed. I knew that the other boys might be annoyed that they weren't invited as well. I heard through twitter that the amount of fans they had to get though was massive and I felt bad that I hadn't at least tried to convince Taylor to let them come with us.

 

Louis's POV

I stormed out of her flat, tears blurring my vision. 

"Louis!" I heard her beg, calling after me. 

"Leave me alone!" I screamed, slamming the door of my car as I jumped in. 

I didn't even understand why she'd done it. Something about how the distance was to much or how I'd been acting weird lately. 

I knew it was stupid to drive with how upset I was, almost unable to see with how hard I was crying. 

The love of my life had just broken up with me, how was I supposed to feel?


	9. Chapter 9

Harry's POV

I was in one of those moods where you're restless but you really don't know why. I felt exhausted, but I couldn't keep from pacing around my flat, absently picking things up just to do something with my hands. 

Taylor had left to go back to America, and now I had nothing to distract me from the pain that threatened to tear me apart. 

I had seen the pictures of Louis and Eleanor walking around. Louis didn't look very happy and I knew that a lot of our fans were blaming me seeing Taylor for that. I knew it actually because of our fight and that Louis was just worrying again. I wished it was because Louis was secretly in love with me and was depressed that I was seeing Taylor, but that was sadly not the case. 

My phone rang and I sighed, pulled out of my thoughts, and picked it up. 

"Hello?" I said. 

"Hazzaaaaa! Hi! So, I'm like...drunk of something?" Louis slurred on the other line, "And I like...need you to pick me up cause my car like...vanished or something? Or maybe I'm in the wrong part of the parking lot, I dunno." 

He exploded into a fit of giggles. I rolled my eyes. Louis got so weird when he got drunk. 

"Where are you, Lou? I'll come get you," I sighed. 

He told me the name of the place. 

"Why are you so drunk anyways? I thought you were hanging out with Eleanor," I said, cringing. 

"Mmm...no," Louis replied quietly, suddenly seeming a lot less drunk, "She broke up with me and now I'm drunk and I just want to go to sleep." 

I almost dropped my phone. 

"I'll be there in a bit, yeah? Just go back inside or something and don't drink anymore, okay?" I said gently. I was surprised Louis wasn't in hysterics yet. His emotions were always in overdrive when he was drunk. 

"Mkay, Hazzabear!" he giggled, his mood changing again. 

I trudged down to my car and got in, heading towards the club he was at, praying he wasn't being stupid. We didn't need anymore negative publicity. 

I knew that the publicity that Taylor and I were receiving was extemely negative. I spent hours scrolling through the hate on Twitter. It was kind of an addiction, like cutting. But I didn't cry or get upset with the hate anymore. I felt kind of connected with the haters, knowing that I wasn't the only one who hated me. 

Taylor had seen my cuts on like the second day we had been together. She had gently touched them and pressed her lips to them, almost exactly how Louis had. I had almost started to cry, just like I had when Louis had done it, but this time it was because it wasn't him touching me like that. 

I pulled up to the club that Louis was at and walked inside. I found him fairly quickly. He was dancing psychotically and stumbling every few moments. Yep. He was extremely drunk. 

I walked up to him and tugged him behind me, having to stop every few seconds when he tripped. We finally reached my car and I shoved him inside before getting in myself. 

He stared at me, grinning. 

"Hey, Hazza!" he greeted, "Fancy seeing you here, isn't it?" 

I shook my head, smiling. 

"You are so drunk, Lou," I snorted. 

He hummed happily, bouncing in his seat as I started to drive. 

Drunk Louis had stages. 

At first he would be happy and bubbly and completely childish like he was a kid. This usually blended with a very typical drunk person Louis where you couldn't understand a word he said. 

Then there was affectionate Louis. I wasn't sure if I liked or hated that stage. 

And then there was passed-out Louis. 

Currently he was still on the first stage. He chattered about random things, slurring his words together and giggling like a schoolgirl. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was talking about. He changed topics every few seconds, so it was just too confusing to try to understand. 

I arrived at my flat. 

"Lou, you should probably stay here tonight," I suggested. 

"Of course, Hazza," he slurred, "You'll take care of me, yeah?" 

I nodded absently. 

"Carry me!" he commanded when I got out of the car. 

I obliged, mainly because I knew he was much too drunk to walk normally. 

I carried him on my back. It was pretty difficult because I'd lost a lot of strength when I'd lost weight, so Louis was much heavier than he should have been. 

The dizzying way he kept nipping at the back of my neck didn't help very much either. 

"Quit it, Lou," I muttered, struggling to hold on to him and open the door at the same time. 

"Quit what?" he asked, pressing his lips to my neck and keeping them there, sucking gently. 

"That," I hissed. 

"Don't wanna," he mumbled as I set him down. 

"Let's get you to bed," I suggested, biting my lip. 

"If you come with me," he purred, his words clear and not slurred at all. 

"Lou," I sighed. 

If him kissing my neck was bad, sleeping in the same bed as him would be torture. 

He giggled softly then and reached up to twist his fingers into my hair. 

I shut my eyes. Although I usually hated people touching my hair, felt good when he messed with it. 

"Why not? I want you," he said, pushing his face into my neck to give me another sharp bite. 

I stiffened. 

"Want me to cuddle with you?" I guessed. The way that his last comment had sounded made my entire body feel like it was burning. 

"No," he murmured, his hands trailing down my stomach, "I want you. Like...I want you." 

This had to be a dream. There was literally no way this could be real, whether Louis was drunk or sober. 

It took a huge effort, but I grabbed his wrists and pushed him away from me. 

"No, Louis," I snapped, my words coming out harsher than I intended. 

"Why not? I know you want it too. You want me!" he crowed, darting away from me and stopping a few feet away. 

"Yeah, maybe so, but this is a horrible idea," I said. He was drunk, he wouldn't remember me saying that. 

Louis pouted and his blue eyes widened. He disappeared into a hallway and I knew that he went into my room. 

I sighed and trudged after him. I found him laying on my bed, wrestling his shirt off. His hands, affected by whatever he had been drinking, fumbled with it. 

"C'mon, Lou, let me help you," I sighed. 

He smirked as I sat down next to him. 

"Undress me!" he said brightly. 

I rolled my eyes, but I was biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. 

As I leaned over to help him with his shirt, he grabbed me by my own and yanked me down on top of him. 

"C'mon love, you know you want to," he growled, his bright eyes darkening with lust. 

I gulped. Yes, I did want to. Very badly, actually. 

"Lou," I choked as he slipped his hands up my shirt. They weren't unsteady now as they pulled it off easily. His touch sent fire through me and I couldn't help but let out a soft whine. 

His lips curved into a smirk at the sound. Before I could really process what was happening, he had pulled me down even further and pressed his lips to mine. 

I gasped at the contact. I felt light-headed and a thrill shot through me and I couldn't restrain myself as I kissed him back. This was what I had been longing for. 

"Fuck," he mumbled as we pulled apart to allow him to get his own shirt off. 

This was a horrible idea, I knew it. But my body seemed to have a mind of its own. I couldn't control myself as I allowed him to touch me, to use me. His body just felt so right as it moved against mine. 

Later, when we were tangled in the sheets and covered in sweat, I curled into his smaller body, needing the comfort that I knew he would give. 

He wrapped his arms around me, humming softly. I shut my eyes and began to drift off. 

"I love you, El." 

I sat straight up, my eyes wide as I looked at him. His jaw was slack and his steady breathing told me that he was asleep, or at least close to it. 

My heart started beating rapidly as I processed the situation. I had just had sex with Louis. IhadjusthadsexwithLouis. He had just said 'I love you, El.' I was not Eleanor. And for the love of all that was holy, I had just slept with Louis! 

I scrambled out of my bed, knowing he was far to drunk and fucked-out to wake up. 

I paced up and down my room, my hands shaking and my breath coming faster. 

Why the hell had I just done that? 

One look towards Louis's sleeping figure told me why. 

He was so perfect, so beautiful. I felt an instant shock of craving as I stared at him, memories of what we had just done flooding into my head. 

I couldn't help but reach out and gently stroke his arm. He shifted in his sleep, then settled. 

I sighed, my heart still racing as I panicked about what to do. It was late and I was exhausted, but I had to pay the price. 

I tilted my head as I looked at the sheets. I knew I had to change them. If Louis woke up and saw the stains, he would immediately know what we had done. But I had to get him off of the bed before I could change them. 

I sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of my nose. I untangled him from the stained sheets and gently lifted him, grunting under his weight. 

I stumbled down the hallway and laid him down on the couch before returning to my room. 

I stared at the bed for a long time. I felt my eyes sting from unshed tears. 

Why was I so stupid? I knew that I had just made everything so much harder for myself. Now I knew what it felt like to be really loved by Louis, even if he had thought I was Eleanor for some bizarre reason. 

I sat down heavily on my bed, shaking as I fought to hold back a sob. I had wanted him so, so badly. 

You really did have to be careful what you wished for. 

I stood, my vision blurry, and violently ripped the sheets and duvet off of my bed, throwing them across my room as hard as I could. 

I got new sheets and a new duvet and messily placed them on my mattress before crawling in and curling into a ball. I finally let the tears flow, quivering silently as I held back any noise. 

The pain that I had felt around Louis was now worsened, all traces of pleasure from earlier gone. Along with the pain came intense fear and disgust. 

I wasn't disgusted that I had had sex with another guy. It was that I was disgusted with myself in that I had gotten so carried away. 

I didn't sleep at all for the rest of the night. I stared at my wall, periodically allowing a few tears to slide down my cheeks. At some point in the night I got up to make fifteen new cuts into my hip, relishing the sharp, stabbing pain. 

When I decided that I could wait no longer, I slid out of bed and pulled on some sweatpants and a jumper. I tossed the messy sheets next to my washer and headed towards the door. 

I hesitated, looking longingly at Louis's peaceful, sleeping form. I walked over to him and knelt down, brushing his messy fringe out of his face. His hair was the definition of sex hair. 

I considered him for a moment before a got a bin and set it next to him. I knew his hangover would be horrid, and I didn't need him vomiting everywhere. 

Satisfied, I slipped out of my flat and headed towards Liam's. 

I hammered on the door for several minutes before it opened. 

"What?" a groggy Liam grumbled. 

His eyes flickered over me and narrowed when he saw my disarrayed state. 

"I slept with Louis," I blurted before bursting into tears.

Liam's POV

It took a good half hour to calm Harry down enough for him to tell me what had happened. 

He came close to hyperventilating at one point and his heart raced as his eyes became wide and panicked. 

I managed to understand from his stammering that Eleanor had broken up with Louis, who in turn got extremely drunk, and then slept with Harry. 

"And...he- he said...'I l-love you...E-El'!" Harry wailed. 

I cringed. Yeah. This was not good. 

After he had stopped crying to tell me the story, he never started again. Instead he clutched me to him, shaking like a leaf. He was scared, I knew, and hurt as well. 

He had had sex with somebody who he was deeply in love with, only to find out that Louis, in his drunken state, had pretty much thought he was Eleanor. Louis had had to have been pretty damn drunk to get a Harry, a man, confused with Eleanor, a woman. 

We sat in silence for what I thought was a good two hours, Harry occasionally shuddering and digging his fingers into my waist. Time passed slowly, but Harry made no move to speak or get up, so I made myself stay with him. He needed me; he needed comfort. 

My phone vibrated and I sighed as I answered it. 

"Hello?" I asked. 

"Li? Hey, you know where Harry is? I woke up at his place and I've got the worlds worst hangover and I can't get a hold of him," Louis mumbled on the other line. 

Harry knew who it was, and I watched him stiffen. 

"Yeah, er, he's with me right now. What do you need?" I asked, gently depositing Harry fully on to the couch and off of my lap so that I could walk into the next room. 

"I was gonna ask where he kept his pain meds, but I found them. So, did he tell you that El broke up with me?" Louis asked. 

"Uh, yeah, he did," I said. 

"Good news! She called this morning and we had a really nice, long talk. We cleared a few things up and we're back together!" Louis said happily. 

I almost dropped the phone. 

"What?" I asked. 

"Yeah. Said she was just feeling overwhelmed with everything but then she realized after I left that breaking up with me wasn't going to make her any happier," Louis explained. 

"Oh. Um. That's...that's really great, Lou," I said quietly. 

Harry was going to be even more heartbroken when he learned about this. What kind of best friend sleeps with you and them gets back together with their girlfriend the next morning? Granted, Louis apparently didn't remember any of it, but I couldn't help but feel irritated. 

"Yeah. Hey, can I talk to Harry really quick?" he asked. 

Alarm shot through me. 

"Er...I don't think that's the best idea at the moment," I mumbled. 

"Why not? Is he alright?" Louis asked, voice full of worry. 

"He's just...you know...just having one of his really low days. He's barely talking to me as it is," I struggled to explain. 

Technically, it was all true, I had just left a lot of important information out. 

"Oh," Louis said quietly, "I didn't...I didn't do anything while I was drunk that cause this, did I?" 

I sighed heavily, unsure of what to say. 

It had everything to do with what Louis did while he was drunk, but I couldn't tell him that. 

"No. I think he just woke up feeling really low," I lied. 

"Alright. Well, tell me if anything changed, alright? I've got a killer headache and I just want to sleep it off right now," Louis sighed. 

We said our goodbyes and I headed out to where Harry was still shaking on the couch. 

"Harry?" I said quietly, "I need to tell you something." 

He nodded, silently telling me to go on. 

"Apparently Eleanor called him and now they're back together," I said. 

He stiffened and I watched his jaw clench and his eyes squeeze shut as his nails dug into his palms. 

"Great," he spat, "How wonderful! So I'm just a one night stand!" 

"Harry, he was drunk and he doesn't remember," I sighed. 

"I don't fucking care, Liam! I made love to him and I know that even if he did remember, I was just a shag to him. I don't matter to him," he snarled. 

"No, Harry, you mean a lot to Louis. I know not in the way that you wish, but Louis really, really cares about you," I said. 

I could practically hear Harry roll his eyes. 

"I give up, Liam. I give up on waiting for something that I know that I will never have, no matter how hard I wish for it. Last night was proof. It was beautiful and amazing to me and he thought that I was his fucking girlfriend! You'd think that my penis was a dead giveaway," he spat, standing, "So I give up. I don't have the strength to keep fighting." 

"What does giving up mean?" I asked. 

"I'm not sure," he replied, voice strained. 

He looked at me. 

His eyes shocked me. 

They had once been a bright green, sparking and full of life and happiness. Now they were dull and dark, any trace of joy long gone. 

They were the eyes of somebody who had been defeated.


	10. Chapter 10

Harrys POV

Truthfully, I was hurting. When wasn't I? 

But now the pain was becoming overwhelming, so much so that it was almost numbing. 

I was still lying on Liam's couch with him sitting opposite me, looking beyond worried. I was fairly sure Zayn was with Perrie and Louis with Eleanor. I had no idea where Niall would be. 

I had my arms wrapped around me in an effort to calm the ache in my chest. 

Every time I shut my eyes, I would hear Louis, see Louis, feel Louis. Instead of the inside of my eyelids, there was Louis. I could feel his lips gently pressing against mine, his hands exploring my body. 

I felt a hand brush against my cheek, but when I opened my eyes, it was Liam who was wiping a tear away and not Louis. 

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked gently, crouching down next to me. 

I looked blankly at him for a moment before shrugging the best that I could while lying down. 

He sighed heavily. 

"You know that I wish I could do something to help you, Harry," he said quietly. 

I shrugged again. 

"I'm going home," I muttered, standing up shakily. 

"Are you sure you're be alright?" Liam asked. 

"I'm not going to kill myself," I replied, knowing the underlying meaning of his question. But both he and I heard a slightly unsure undertone in my voice. 

Liam bit his lip before flinging his arms around me. I squirmed in his tight grip. 

"I'm scared for you, Harry," he whispered, "I really am." 

I tensed. I knew I had the boys worried sick, but having Liam say it to my face was a whole different story. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say to him. Liam rarely showed his emotions like this so I didn't know how to treat him when he did. 

He buried his face in my neck and exhaled shakily, still clinging to me. 

"I'm being serious when I say this, Harry. If you ever seriously feel like...you know, dying, please don't hesitate to call one of us. It doesn't even have to be us. It could be your mum, Gemma, Nick, anybody. I'm saying this on behalf of all of us," he said quietly into my neck. 

I nodded so he would relax. But truthfully, if somebody really wants to die, they're not going to call someone so that they can be talked out of it. 

We stood there for a while, just standing there with our arms wrapped tightly around each other. I think we both needed the comfort. 

When I got back to my flat, I froze as soon as I walked in. Louis was still there. He looked up at me and smiled. 

"Hey, Haz!" he greeted. 

"You're still here," I commented, feeling my muscles tense. 

"Yeah. I'm gonna go see El in a bit, but I was hoping that you know, we could talk first?" Louis said. He seemed nervous. I felt my heart stutter with the thought that maybe he did remember what we had done. 

"Yeah, sure," I choked. 

I sat down next to him and he sighed softly, looking up at me with curious blue eyes. 

"Liam said you weren't doing too well today," he said gently, "How are you now?" 

So that was all he wanted to talk about? 

"Fine," I answered shortly. 

"Was there anything in particular that was making you like that? I know you brought me here last night. I didn't say anything bad to you, did I?" he asked, genuinely worried. 

I exhaled a sigh of relief. He didn't remember. 

"No, of course not, Lou. I just woke up in one of those moods," I said as convincingly as I could, "Er, I don't really want to talk about this anymore, okay? So is that all you wanted?" 

He shook his head. 

"When El broke up with me, she mentioned that one of the reasons was because of the hate she's getting from people who believe that you and I are in a relationship," he said slowly. 

"Okay," I prompted. 

I pretty much knew where this was going to lead, but I acted as if I didn't. I wished that I didn't. 

"It's just...I don't know what to do about it, Haz. I've tried denying it, I've tried ignoring it, so what else can I do? I hate seeing her hurt because of some stupid theory," he sighed. 

I involuntarily flinched at his words. He didn't notice. 

'Larry' may have been a stupid theory for him, but I 'shipped' it just as much as most of our fans. I wanted it to be real like they did. 

"What do you want me to do about it, Lou?" I asked quietly. 

"I was just thinking...if you could give me any ideas on what to do. God, she gets so upset, Haz, and I just wish I could do something about it, you know? Maybe you'll understand if you and Taylor become more serious," he said. 

"Don't patronize me," I snapped. The adoration and concern in his voice angered me. Mostly because those emotions were for Eleanor and not me. My irritation found his 'when you and Taylor become serious' comment rather haughty. 

"I wasn't?" Louis said, tilting his head in confusion. 

"Here's what I think, Lou. Don't do anything about it. Every time that you deny it, people just say you're trying to cover up Larry or whatever. Like you said, it's stupid, so ignore it," I grumbled. 

Louis frowned thoughtfully, but then looked concerned. He placed his hand on my knee and I flinched away. This time he noticed. 

"Are you alright, Haz? And don't lie to me," he said sternly. 

"What do you want me to say, Louis? That I'm okay? Because it's pretty obvious that I'm not!" I snapped. It was his turn to flinch and his eyes softened. 

"I know," he muttered, "I was just...I'm worried about El, you know and now I'm worried about you as well. It's just a lot." 

Something snapped in me. 

"So I should just fix myself to make everything easier for you, right? So you can go back to just having to worry over one thing? I know you're worried about her, Louis, but you're obsessing over this! Have you ever thought that maybe it hurts me to have you purposely change spots with the boys during interviews and avoid touching me or really even looking at me in any way? Don't you think that might be a little insulting to me? Trust me, I get that you're trying to protect her and everything, but maybe it's time for her to toughen up because no matter what you do, there's always going to be hate! So just tell her to suck it up because life isn't always going to be sunshine and happiness! A little bit of hate is nothing compared to what I'm going through! I fucking wish I could trade places with her!" I exploded. 

Louis stared at me with wide eyes, his jaw dropped open. 

I was rather shocked as well. I didn't know if I had ever actually yelled at Louis. I'd snapped at him before, but this was new. 

I ran my hands over my face. 

"You should probably go see her," I mumbled wearily. 

"No, Harry, I-" 

"Just go, Louis," I snapped quietly, cutting him off. 

He stood hesitantly at walked away. 

As angry as I had been moments prior, now it had flooded out of my body and all I could feel was numbness. There was only dull pain in the knowledge that he was going to see Eleanor after I shouted at him. Sure, I had told him to go, but part of me wanted him to stay. But my body and heart felt so numb that I couldn't bring myself to tell him. 

As I stared at his retreating back, I wondered if this was how giving up felt. 

I got up when I heard the door close and made my way to my room. I looked out of my window and watched his car drive away to Manchester, away from me. 

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass of the window and closed my eyes, exhaling shakily. 

Realizing that I had had next to no control when I yelled at Louis scared me. I'd almost given myself away before MSG and I thought it miraculous that I hadn't while yelling at him just moments ago. 

I couldn't find the strength to cry or scream or even find a blade to cut myself with. 

I just stood there, staring longingly out of the window and wishing that Louis would turn around and come back to me.

 

Eventually I moved, my forehead cold from the window and my muscles starting to ache from staying still. 

I noticed the sheets still balled up in the corner of my room and I wondered absently if Louis had noticed them when he had woken up. Knowing Louis, probably not. 

I sat down on the edge of my bed, feeling restless. I didn't really know why, but I couldn't quit fidgeting. 

I heard my phone from where I had left it on the couch, and I got up to get it. 

It was a text from Taylor. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. 

'Miss you!' was all it said. 

I swallowed my annoyance and replied. 

'I miss you too.' 

I didn't, not really. I didn't miss her disgustingly sweet perfume or her incessant chattering about our 'relationship'. I didn't miss the fact that I was having sex with her, but thinking about Louis. 

And now I knew what it was really like to have sex with Louis. I knew how much better it was with him than with her. 

I knew that it was my first and last time with him. The thought made a small throb of pain creep through the veil of numbness I felt. 

My phone buzzed again, but this time it was Niall. 

'How are you? xx Niall' 

Now annoyance broke through my barrier. 

'Leave me alone. Harry' 

I knew it was harsh, but I didn't want to talk. Didn't want to talk about my feelings, or the peculiar lack of feeling that I was having right now. Didn't want to talk about how useless this whole thing was or how I really just wanted to end it all most of the time. 

'I'm sorry. xx Niall' 

Trust Niall to apologize for doing nothing wrong. I didn't reply, instead left my phone where it lay and began to wander my flat. 

There wasn't a lot of space to wander in, but I couldn't shake the restlessness. 

I finally gave up and went to my bathroom, where I knew I would find the razor that I usually left on the sink. 

It wasn't there. I checked for others in the drawers and under the sink but found none. 

That clever bastard. 

Louis had taken my razors. I wondered if he had seen the rather large hole I had punched into the wall and decided that there was pretty much no way that he hadn't. 

I sighed, beyond irritated and went back into my room, hoping that he hadn't found the few that I kept in there. 

Evidentially, he had taken most of them, but I found one that he had missed behind my mirror. Liam had done the same thing a few months prior. Not to the same extent, but he had confiscated a couple. I had learned my lesson and hid the remaining ones. 

The quick stab of pain in my hip was the only thing I felt other than numbness as I sliced into myself, letting my eyes flutter shut for a brief second. 

After the initial sting, the numbness returned. It felt good to not have to hurt. 

When I finished, cursing as a drop of blood stained my jeans, I put the blade back in its place and placed a bandage over the new cuts. 

I slipped out of my clothes and got into my bed. I was exhausted, truthfully, despite it being early evening. 

I tried to fall asleep but the farthest I could get was that almost purgatory-like stage where you're not asleep but you're not entirely conscious either. 

My head buzzed with the knowledge that I was lying in the same bed that Louis had had sex with me in. 

Finally, when it became late and I was exasperated after hours of slipping in and out of half-consciousness, I got up and moved to the couch.

 

Two Weeks Later

I studied the room that I was in. 

I was at Louis's 21st birthday party and all I had to say was that it would be a nice party except for one thing. 

Eleanor was there. 

She was everywhere he was, really. He had her arm seemingly permanently locked around her waist and I wanted to vomit when I watched them kiss every few minutes. 

On the positive side, the cake was good. 

"You look bored out of your mind," Liam said, coming up to me. 

"'M not. Just waiting until its late enough for being drunk to be appropriate," I replied. 

Liam frowned and rolled his eyes. 

"You doing alright?" he asked. 

Liam had a particularly annoying habit of asking me that question multiple times every single day. 

Because Eleanor was at the party, he was going overboard. 

"I'm fine, Li, just like I was five minutes ago," I snapped. 

I had talked to Louis for a while, but it had been awkward. Ever since I'd yelled at him two weeks prior, things had been a little tense with us. Neither of us ever brought it up and I liked it that way. 

The numbness that I had forced myself to feel was still there as well. I could feel a tiny little throb as I watched Louis gently peck Eleanor's lips, but it was a dull sort of throb. 

The boys, other than Louis, had taken notice of my change in behavior. I hadn't tried to explain the fact that I really couldn't feel anymore, because I knew that they wouldn't understand. 

My emotions had been broken and tampered with so many times that they had given up and now I just felt hollow. I couldn't feel the pain though, not really. 

Liam had checked my wrist earlier in the day and had been pleased to see that there were only fading scars. He honestly thought that I had quit. 

If he saw my hips, so abused and littered with cuts, that would be a different story. 

I'd been cutting more and more, to the point that I seemed to not be able to go even a few hours without pressing a blade to my skin. I was starting to scare myself, but I tucked the fear away, hiding it under the numbness. 

"I'm sorry. I just know it hurts you," Liam sighed. 

I wanted to laugh. I was incapable of being hurt. I was to far gone. I found it almost amusing that the boys were thinking I was getting better. 

Honestly, I knew that I was quickly spiraling downwards. The cutting was drastically worsening, and I was finding myself drinking more. I knew that the peculiar numbness was only temporary and that eventually it would be brutally ripped away. 

On the plus side, I was eating more, and as a result, I was gaining weight. My bones weren't exactly as prominent, but they didn't jut out as sharply. 

I shrugged in response to Liam and picked up another slice of cake, absently biting into it. 

Liam studied me. 

"You're gaining weight," he said simply, "I'm proud." 

"Yeah," I replied simply. 

For some reason, his praise made my appetite vanish and I found myself setting down the plate. 

Louis came over to us. 

"How's it going?" he asked. 

"Fine," Liam responded. I kept quiet. 

"You two are being boring, come on," Louis whined, and he pulled us over to a group of friends that he had been talking to. 

I watched him as he chattered and laughed. His bright blue eyes crinkled as he grinned and I wished that I was the sole reason for his smile. 

Eventually, I backed out of the group of people and simply walked out of the party. I sent a text to Liam, telling him that I had left. 

The numbness had become weaker, a steady ache pulsing in my chest as I watched Louis and Eleanor be...well, Louis and Eleanor. 

I drove back to my flat, silently fuming for no particular reason. I went inside and immediately went to my room, reaching behind the mirror for a familiar strip of metal. 

I stopped halfway and stood back, looking at myself. 

I unbuttoned my blazer and shrugged it off, pulling my shirt off as well. 

I ran my fingers across my chest, feeling my ribs. They weren't as sharp as they they had been a few weeks ago. 

I gazed at my reflection. 

There was something wrong about the way my body looked. It wasn't desperately skinny as it had been. Instead, it was almost awkward, like somebody who could eat and eat and never gain a pound, even though they really needed to because they were as thin as a rail. 

I didn't like it. I had somewhat grown fond of the abnormal way that my skin stretched thinly over my bones. 

I shut my eyes tightly. What the hell was wrong with me tonight? I felt like my sanity was falling away from me rather than slipping. 

I opened them and realized I was no longer in my room. I knelt in front of the toilet. 

I could lose weight again, but still eat so that the boys would be suspicious. I could do that, couldn't I? 

God, I really was going crazy. 

Somehow, I knew how to do it. Knew how to push my fingers into the back of my throat to make myself retch. Knew how to yank them out quickly as I sputtered and vomited. Knew how to do it again, forcing everything to come up. 

When I finished, I looked at myself as I brushed my teeth, erasing the bitter taste from my mouth. 

I was looking into the eyes of somebody so twisted, so depressed, so far gone that they didn't care anymore. 

I knew what I was doing to myself when I cut or when I had just made myself throw up. But I didn't care. 

Louis and Eleanor had looked so happy at his party. I wanted that with him, wanted him to hug me and kiss me like that. But I couldn't have that. I only had my razor. 

Part of me wanted Louis to see it, to see that this was more than depression now. More than cutting. More than bulimia. 

It had grown into something so severe that suddenly, the numbness shattered and all the pain that it had been blockading slammed into me. 

I dropped my toothbrush and stumbled into my room, collapsing onto my bed. 

It was agony. I couldn't place what hurt and why. I was dizzy with all of the swirling thoughts and the intense pain. I wanted to throw up again, but there was nothing left. I wanted to cut, but I was shaking to badly to get a blade. 

I fumbled for my phone and tried to dial Liam's number. It took several tries, my hands trembling. 

"Harry?" he asked. 

"Li-Liam...I...I don't...I need help," I whimpered. 

I heard him curse quietly and say something to someone before he came back to me. 

"I'll be there soon. What's going on? What's wrong?" he asked, fear plain in his voice. 

"I don't...I don't know! It was numb and now it's not and it hurts and I feel sick and I want to fucking die because it hurts!" I wailed, clutching my phone so tightly that I thought it might break. 

"You need to calm down, Harry. Tell me what happened when you got home," Liam said. 

I couldn't tell him about the throwing up. I had to lose this stupid fat; he couldn't know. 

"I was brushing my teeth and I just...I don't know! I was thinking about Eleanor and Louis and how happy they looked and I don't know! What's wrong with me?" I gasped. 

"Shh, you really need to calm down. I think you're having a panic attack, alright? Just breath, Harry, breath," he said softly. 

I struggled to control my labored pants for air, trying to breath in sync with him. 

So now I was having panic attacks as well? As my heart beat started to slow, I wondered wearily what else could possibly go wrong. 

Depression? Check. 

Self-harm? Check. 

Eating disorder? Checked that off a few minutes prior. 

Panic attacks? Now I could check that off. 

He stayed on the phone with me, just calmly talking to me, until he got to my flat. He hung up as he walked in. 

I started bawling the moment I saw him. 

He made a soft, sympathetic noise in the back of his throat as he lay down next to me. He allowed me to sob into his chest. 

I was crying for myself, scared of what was happening to me, terrified of the darkness that I had been spiraling down into for so long. I was crying for the fact that I wished it was Louis that was here with me and not Liam. I was crying because I knew that it never would be. 

I was crying because I didn't know how to give up.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry's POV

After a considerable amount of persuading from Liam, I went to the doctors to get a prescription for anti-depressants and whatever medication is used for panic attacks. 

I didn't really think they would help any, but I took them so to ease his worries. 

And now, reluctantly, I was going skiing with Taylor. I had no idea why I had agreed to this. 

She chattered nonstop about us being together for New Years until I was ready to jump off of the lift just so I wouldn't have to listen to her anymore. 

It was a little sad because I was filled with memories of skiing with Louis and how much fun we had had. 

And now I was stuck with the Wicked Bitch of the West. 

In all honesty, Taylor really wasn't entirely horrible. I had a feeling that she knew that I wasn't as committed or interested as her so that was why she was pushing it so much. But she was trying and I had to give her credit for that. 

We went back to the hotel exhausted. Despite both of us hardly being able to keep our eyes open, she crawled into bed next to me and started to kiss my neck and run her disturbingly cold hands down my chest. 

"Not tonight, Taylor. I'm knackered," I mumbled. 

She hummed in consent and curled next to me. 

"You're hands are bloody freezing," I grumbled as she wrapped her arms around me. 

"You should help me warm them up, then," she purred, putting them on my neck. They were so cold that it almost hurt. 

I shivered and flinched away. 

"Jesus, Taylor!" I snapped. 

"Sorry," she giggled. 

I rolled my eyes and allowed her to pull herself close to me once again. 

I fell asleep trying to pretend those freezing cold hands belonged to Louis.

 

On Christmas, I went back to Holmes Chapel, grateful for the break from Taylor. She was sweet and all but I was really getting sick of her. Our fans weren't necessarily incorrect in saying that she was a whore or a slut. We had sex every day that we were together and it was hardly enjoyable for me, mostly because I was quite gay. 

She was also quite unobservant. She didn't seem to notice how I slipped into the bathroom at least once a day and puked my guts up, hating the feeling of food in my stomach. 

I wasn't stupid. I knew that if I did it too much that I could really hurt myself, so I didn't do it super often. 

I was relieved as I walked into my mum's house. I was happy to see her after a long time being away from home. She greeted me with her customary joy in seeing me, then a typical frown as she saw the cuts and the exhaustion and the bones that stuck out underneath my shirt. 

She led me into the kitchen where she had tea waiting. She gestured for me to sit down before she spoke. 

"Louis called, you know, a few weeks ago. He's desperate to know what happened to make you change so drastically," she began. 

"I don't want him to know," I said sharply. 

"I understand. I told him that was up to you to decide if you wanted him to know or not," she replied. 

I sighed, suddenly feeling a lot more tired. 

"If I told him, it would complicate things even more. Things are tense with he and I and telling him that I'm in love with him would just make things worse," I said. 

She nodded understandingly. She knew that I had slept with Louis. At least, I thought she knew. I'd ended up bursting into tears halfway through telling her and I had struggled to get out the rest of the story. 

"So, Gemma is coming home tonight," she finally said. 

I nodded absently. 

"You know mum, I'm actually kinda tired, so do you think I could take a quick nap?" I asked. 

"Of course! Want me to get you anything?" she asked. 

I shook my head and left the kitchen. I noticed the Christmas tree that she must have set up with my stepfather. 

I was filled with a flashes of nostalgia and longing as I remembered setting up a tree with Louis. We had been in our flat together and he had suggested getting a tree because "our flat is so un-Christmasy, Haz!" We had gone out and gotten one even though neither of us were going to be there on the actual Christmas Day. 

I remembered how we had thrown tinsel at each other and laughed and just enjoyed each other's company. We'd made tea and cuddled on the sofa. That was before I had realized that I had feelings for him that weren't necessarily platonic. But it was also one of the times that I looked back on and realized that those times were what made me love him so much. It was one of my favorite memories of us, just being together in our stupid Christmas sweaters. There was no Eleanor to distract Louis and I was able to love him freely, but like a friend. 

I missed being able to cuddle with him without getting upset. And I missed when we would openly joke about Larry Stylinson and give each other lovebites or pretend to snog. I missed how we used to be. 

I missed how I used to be. 

I hadn't realized that I was crying until I felt my mum's hand on my shoulder. I quickly wiped the stray tears away and shrugged her hand away. 

"'M sorry," I mumbled, seeing the hurt look on her face. 

She shook her head. 

"The boys aren't the only ones worried about you," she said quietly, studying me. 

"I know. I'm trying, but it's really hard," I replied, biting my lip to keep more tears from sliding out. 

"I know, sweetheart, and you know that I'm here for you. So are the boys, and you know that includes Louis. We all just want you to get better," she said softly, reaching up and placing her hand on my cheek. 

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them. 

"I wish that I could," I replied, equally as quietly, "But how do you stop loving somebody?" 

She shrugged helplessly and I turned around and headed to my room. 

I entered and immediately flopped into my bed. It was the exact same as it had been when I had last been here. 

I remembered bringing Louis with me, right after the X-Factor and my mum had pulled me aside, asking if I had any interest in him. Back then, I had been able to honesty say that I didn't. 

Now, that was a complete lie. I didn't even know if I would be able to deny it if I was ever asked. 

As tired as I was, I didn't fall asleep for a long time. I stared at the ceiling, got up to take my clothes off, and then laid back down. 

As much as I hated sleeping with Taylor, I'd gotten used to it over the past couple days. Now my bed felt big and empty and lonely. I remembered having a similar feeling when Louis moved out. 

Actually, we had stopped sleeping in the same bed a few weeks prior to that. 

I'd crept into his room, wondering why he hadn't come to mine yet, only to find him asleep in his own bed, alone. 

I'd tried to get in next to him, only to have him wake up. 

"Haz, maybe we should work on seperating ourselves a bit, yeah? It might help with the rumors," he had said gently, "It's for the best you know, don't give me that look." 

I'd nodded and left to get into my own bed and tried to take up as much room as possible so maybe it wouldn't feel so empty. I had cried myself to sleep, because by then I had fallen in love with him. I had been at the stage where I lived for nighttime because he always fell asleep with me pulled close to him and I could pretend that there was a chance with us. Fairly soon after that, I avoided his touches as much as possible because I knew that there was never going to be something more than friendship between us. 

Could I even call it friendship anymore? 

It was so strained and tense that sometimes I wondered if we could even get back to being normal with each other. 

When referring to Louis, I didn't even know what the definition of normal was. We'd never had the typical best mate relationship; we'd been so much closer than that. And now, secrets were destroying the tiny scraps of our old friendship that we had managed to save after Louis had met Eleanor. 

I wondered if I should call him, wish him a merry Christmas. 

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I had picked up my phone and dialed his number. 

"Hey, Harry!" he greeted when he picked up, "Vas happenin'?" 

"Hey Lou. Just wanted to say merry Christmas," I replied. 

"Aw, merry Christmas to you H- what? Oh, okay," Louis said, talking to somebody on his side of the phone, "El says happy holidays as well." 

Oh. That's who he was talking to. I couldn't help but cringe, knowing that they would be together for the holidays while I was stuck with my mother for Christmas and Taylor for New Years. 

"What? Oh, yeah. Hold on, El, I'm talking to Harry! Hm? Fine, just hold on," Louis laughed, "Hey, Haz, I have to go, okay? I'll see you after New Years!" 

Then he hung up without waiting for my reply. 

I angrily slammed my phone down next to me. The prick couldn't even say more than a couple words to me without rubbing the fact that he had a girlfriend in my face, could he? 

As I calmed down some, I realized that he hadn't said his usual 'love you' before he hung up. Upon second thought, I realized that he hadn't done that in a few months. 

I remembered when I used to sulk or get irritated with him when he forgot. Now...I didn't know what to do. 

It might have upset me further if he actually had said it, because I knew that it wasn't the 'I love you' that I wanted. 

But still, it felt like there was a huge blank space in the place of his missing 'I love you'. 

I felt hot tears threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back rapidly. I was tired of crying. 

My phone buzzed and I knew upon instinct that it would be either Taylor or one of the boys. 

It was Taylor. 

I didn't reply to her question of if I was home yet. She could think I died in a plane crash on the way for all I cared. 

Frustrated and upset, I dug out the anti-depressant pills and swallowed a few, paying no attention to how many I was really supposed to take.

 

"10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!" 

Taylor grabbed me and kissed me as the clock struck midnight. People pressed together all around us, packed into Times Square as tightly as possible. 

"Happy New Year, Harry," she said. 

I smiled tightly at her in response, knowing that in London or Manchester or wherever Louis and Eleanor were, they had already celebrated. Without me. 

"Happy New Year," I replied. 

We stayed for another half hour, talking to people and laughing, Well, she was laughing but I was faking it. 

"C'mon, we should go back to the hotel," I sighed finally, exhaused and done talking to people that I either barely knew or didn't know at all. 

"Alright," she agreed, saying her final goodbyes. 

We walked back to the hotel, squeezing past the gigantic mass of people from all over the world. I thought about how the last time I had been in New York had been when the lads and I had performed at Madison Square Garden. That was also when I had started going out with Taylor. 

When we got to the hotel room, we ordered wine from the room service. We finished the bottle quickly and ordered another. 

Pretty soon, we were pissed drunk and laughing uncontrollably over something that I couldn't remember. 

"What's your resolution? You know, for New Years?" Taylor giggled. 

"To be alive next New Years," I answered seriously. 

She nodded thoughtfully, suddenly serious. 

"I think that's a good resolution to have," she replied. 

Then we were tripping towards the bed, laughing, fumbling to take our clothes off. My trousers got caught around my ankles and I almost fell, but grabbed onto the bedframe. 

"Thank god for this bed...I might have just died," I slurred, kicking my feet to get my trousers off. 

Taylor burst into shrill giggles. 

Afterwards, with her naked body still wrapped around me, I felt a wave of intense guilt for no reason. 

I pried her off of me and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a jumper so that I could go out onto our balcony. 

I was drunk and I was depressed and I was tempted to just fling myself over the rail, but I refrained from doing so. 

The cold air was a little sobering, but the alcohol clouded my thoughts and made everything a little heavy. The air felt heavier and my movements felt clumsy and slow. 

I sat down on the floor of the balcony and stared out between the bars of the railing. 

I felt so guilty, like I had cheated on Louis. But I'd done it so many times. Why was it bothering me now? 

I wanted to throw up, but I had hardly eaten anything so there would be nothing to throw up. 

I wanted to cut, but I didn't want to move. The harsh winter air felt bitter and almost painful against my skin and it was kind of like cutting. 

I leaned forward to rest my forehead against the railing. 

I felt lonely. I had Taylor. I had the boys. I had my family. I had an entire fandom. 

But I was so lonely. 

I was alone and I was afraid and I was sad and I was cold and I was guilty and I was drunk. 

I wanted Louis to be with me. I wanted him to want me. I wanted to hear him telling me that everything was alright, that I would be okay. 

No. 

I needed him to be with me. I needed him to want me. I needed to hear him telling me that everything was alright, that I would be okay. 

Without considering what I was doing, I stumbled back into the hotel room, fumbling blindly for my phone. 

I found it in the pocket of my discarded trousers. 

I took it back out onto the balcony with me, shutting the sliding glass door and tapping his name to call him. 

It rang. 

It rang and it rang and it rang. 

I wondered if he would pick up. It was early in the morning where he was, but he had to answer. He just had to. 

"Yeah?" a tired-sounding voice answered. 

"Lou?" I whispered, feeling tears rush into my eyes as I sat down against the railing. 

"Haz? Why are you calling me? Isn't it really late in New York?" he mumbled, sleep evident in his voice. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it is. But Lou...Lou, I just...I really need you right now, okay?" I whimpered, "I'm lonely and I'm sad and I don't know why I'm so sad, but Lou, I'm drunk. I'm so, so drunk." 

"Oh, Haz...what's going on? What's wrong?" he asked. 

I heard a sleepy female voice and him gently assuring her that it was 'just Harry' and telling her to go back to sleep. 

Eleanor. 

"I...I'm...I don't wanna be 'just Harry'," I mumbled, "I wanna be more than that. But I'm not and I can't do anything about it." 

"I have no clue what you're saying, love. What's going on? Is Taylor with you?" he asked gently. 

"Yeah. But she's asleep. And now I'm lonely, Lou. She's not you. I want you to be here with me!" I slurred, "You'd make everything better. I know you would, if you were here." 

"Christ, Harry. How much have you had to drink? I can hardly understand you!" he sighed. 

I felt tears slide down my face, hot against my cold skin. 

"I just want you to understand!" I muttered, "Just want you to be here." 

"I am here, love. So what's wrong? Let me help you," he said softly. 

"Everything's wrong! Nothing's right anymore! I miss you, I just miss you, Lou. I want you," I sobbed bitterly, "But I can't and now I'm with Taylor and everything's just wrong!" 

I could barely understand what I was saying, my speech slurred from alcohol and rough from tears. I could only imagine how difficult it was for Louis to understand, if he even could. 

"Shh, sweetheart, just calm down, okay? You need to go to sleep and when you wake up, everything will be better, yeah?" Louis said. 

I wanted to believe him. But I knew that it wouldn't. I'd fall asleep in hell to wake up in hell. 

"I can't sleep," I whispered. 

"I'll sing you to sleep, yeah? That always works for you," he suggested. 

I choked back a sob. 

He was so perfect and I was so broken. I could never have him. He was too perfect, too good to be true. 

"Yeah," I finally managed, "Yeah, okay." 

I stood up shakily, shivering as a breeze gently blew through the already freezing air. 

I stepped back inside, marveling at how nice and warm it was. 

I undressed, Louis staying quiet on his side until I told him that I was in bed. 

He started to whisper sweet nothing's to me, his gentle words taking over my thoughts and instantly calming me. I shut my eyes and pretended that he was laying next to me, talking to me live and not through a phone. 

"Lou, I love you," I whispered drowsily. 

"I love you too, Hazza. Now just close you eyes and I'll stay with you until you're asleep, okay?" he murmured. 

I nodded and felt a little silly knowing that he couldn't see me. 

"Sing to me," I mumbled. 

"Of course," he replied. 

I fell asleep listening to an angel sing.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry's POV

After waking up with a massive hangover and feeling incredibly stupid for calling Louis, I went with Taylor to Virgin Gorda, one of the Virgin Islands. 

It was nice to get out of the cold weather, really. 

We spent some time with a family named the Helds and I tried my hardest to keep up my 'super in love with a girl who I actually want to strangle' act. 

It must have been believable because the mother Kris, commented on how cute we were together. 

Taylor grinned and pecked my lips. I forced a small back to her. 

When we got back to the hotel room, I noticed that she was being really quiet, which was extremely, extremely weird for her. 

"Hey, you're being quiet," I commented. 

She nodded and sat down on the bed, biting her lip. 

"I um...I heard you on the phone with Louis a few nights ago," she said quietly, "You woke me up when you were looking for your phone and then you didn't close the door all the way." 

Knowing Taylor, this was not going to end well. 

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say. 

"I know we were drunk and everything, but I just can't help thinking about everything you were saying. Like how I'm just not Louis and how you wished he was there with you and not me. That hurts, Harry, and I just need you to tell me something; is that what you really feel?" she asked, her eyes sparking with held-back anger and frustration. 

I didn't answer her. She already knew the truth. She had figured it out. 

She huffed and stood up. 

"I always knew that you were kind of holding back in this relationship, but I brushed it off because I knew that something's really wrong with you. But I never would have guessed that it was because you're fucking in love with your best friend!" Taylor snapped. 

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from getting angry. I knew that she had every right to be very pissed off, but I still felt a little irritated. 

"God, aren't you going to say anything? I find out that my fucking boyfriend is in love with his fucking band mate and that's why he cuts himself and is so depressed and you're silent? God, it's a tragedy, isn't it? You're pining after Louis like a puppy and you know he'll never love you back! I was ready to help you get over whatever was wrong, but now, knowing that you actually used me, you can just go screw yourself! Just go back to destroying yourself over something that will never, ever happen!" she shrieked. 

I lost it. 

"Yeah, I admit it! You were a distraction! You want the truth? I'll give it to you! You make me want to throw up! You're so clingy and desperate and yeah, you're not Louis! You're just some whore that I used as a distraction!" I snarled. 

Taylor gasped and I processed what I had just said. 

"Taylor, look, I'm...I'm sorry," I sighed, running my hands over my face. 

"No you're not, Harry. You know that you aren't," she replied coldly. 

"Look, you're a sweet girl and everything but...," I sighed, trailing off. 

"But I'm not Louis. I know. I get it. I think I've always known, deep down. I think I saw how the way you looked at him was so different from the way you looked at me. But I didn't want to see it because Harry, I really am in love with you. Or was in love with you. In love with who I thought you were. And I can't pretend that I'm not really, really hurt. And while we're being complete jerks to each other, let me just say that you're wasting your time with Louis. That girl Eleanor's got him wrapped around her little finger," she said softly. 

I nodded stiffly. I was amazing with how calm she had suddenly become. 

"Maybe you should go," I said. 

Taylor nodded. I looked away so I wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. 

"You're disgusting, Harry. I can't believe you used me like this," she sighed bitterly as she started packing up her stuff. 

"I know," I said, watching her shove clothes in a suitcase. 

I called her security for her so she could leave. 

She hesitated at the door. 

"Harry, um, I know I should say that I hope everything works out for you but I really don't think it will. I'm sorry," she said, a hard edge to her otherwise gentle tone. 

"No you're not," I replied, mimicking her words from earlier. 

She turned to leave, but stopped once more. 

"I'm not going to tell anybody. You know, why we broke up. I hate you, but I'm not that much of a bitch. However, I will make it be known that this breakup is not my fault," she added. 

"Thank you. I really appreciate that," I said sincerely, "And you have every right to be angry." 

Taylor nodded once and then she walked out of my life for good.

 

To everyone but Liam, Niall, Zayn, and my mum, I pretended to be upset by the break up. 

When Louis confronted me about it, I shrugged and bitterly said that we had a fight and it was over. 

He had pressured me for the details, but finally gave up and stormed away when I wouldn't tell him, grumbling about how I used to tell him everything. 

As much of a relief that it was to quit pretending that I was in love with her, I no longer had a distraction. It was a terrible thing to think, but she had been a good distraction and if I had to miss anything about our relationship, then it was that. 

I could no longer call her or visit her if I needed to take my mind off of Louis. 

I had scars halfway down my thighs because I had run out of space to cut on my hips. 

I was throwing up more and more, almost twice a day if I ate a lot. 

I was taking way more anti-depressants and the panic-attack medication than I knew that I should, merely because it had a very slight numbing effect. 

If the boys noticed anything, they didn't say it. I had a feeling that they thought that I was getting better because there were no new fresh cuts on my wrist. 

We were going to Ghana for Comic Relief, a charity. I was nervous, knowing that the conditions would be less than pleasant and that I would see children, maybe even adults, close to death. 

I was sitting in Liam's flat, not wanting to be alone. We were leaving in the morning. 

"You're fidgeting, Harry," he commented. 

I shrugged. 

I wanted to cut. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to take some pills to get that slight lull of numbness. But I didn't tell Liam any of that. 

"Excited for the trip?" he prompted. 

"Scared, if anything," I replied, "You know that it won't be a happy trip." 

"Yeah. But it's going to be a really good learning experience for us. We're used to being at the top of the world and now we have to see what it's like towards the bottom," he said. 

I nodded. 

We stayed quiet for a while. 

"Louis told me how you called him on New Years," Liam finally sighed, "And I'm going to assume that it was a good thing that he could hardly understand you." 

I nodded, keeping my eyes fixed on a spot above his head. 

"I was drunk and depressed, Li. I wasn't really thinking straight when I called him. But yeah, that's actually why Taylor broke up with me. She heard what I said to him," I said quietly. 

"What did you say to him?" Liam asked hesitantly. 

"A lot of things that she should not have overheard. I think I said something about how I wanted him to be with me and not Taylor and how I wanted him and et cetera. I'm pretty glad that he couldn't understand me," I sighed. 

Liam nodded, studying me. 

"Has you know, everything, gotten any better?" he asked softly. 

I tried to avoid his eyes, but I couldn't. And once he trapped me in his steady, inquisitive gaze, I knew that I had to tell the truth. 

I shook my head slowly. 

"Worse. Way worse," I muttered. 

"But you stopped cutting, didn't you?" he asked. He wanted me to say yes desperately. I could see his fear and his worry practically radiating off of him. 

I shook my head again. 

"But your wrists...," he said softly. 

I shook my head for the third time. I had to show him. 

I stood up and undid the zipper of my trousers, tugging them down slightly to show him my butchered hips. 

Liam gasped quietly at the state that they were in. It wasn't pretty. There was little skin that wasn't marred by scars and cuts. 

"You weren't kidding when you said it was getting worse," Liam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maybe we should really look into getting you some help." 

"No!" I snarled, "It didn't work the first time and its not going to work if I try again." 

Liam flinched, but his eyes hardened. 

"Well you're not getting better by yourself, Harry, and I'm not just going to stand around and watch you slowly kill yourself!" he barked. 

"I'm fine, Liam!" I snapped. 

"No you aren't, Harry! You haven't been since you decided to fall in love with Louis!" he retorted. 

I tensed. 

"You think this was my decision? You're sorely wrong," I growled, "I don't want to live in hell, Liam. I really don't." 

Then I stormed out and went back to my own flat.

Ghana was... I struggled to find the words to describe it. 

I couldn't say terrible, because it wasn't. I couldn't say wonderful, because it was far from that. It wasn't exactly inspirational either. It was, but it wasn't. 

It was mind-blowing, it was life-changing, it brought everything into perspective. 

We visited a classroom of children first. They were so skinny and small that I wondered about their health. And then I wondered if I looked like that to everyone else. 

We sang and played with them, marveling at their seemingly natural musical ability. We joked that they were better singers than us. Or maybe it wasn't a joke. 

Then came the difficult part. 

Louis, Niall, and Zayn were going to a children's hospital while Liam and I went to a seperate emergency room. 

I was scared, to be honest. I had no idea what I would see, what I would have to witness. I didn't know if I would have to see dead children or dying children. I just knew that it would be extremely difficult. 

We walked into the hospital and were greeted by a woman who led us to a room. 

There was very little talking, but the empty space was filled with the sound of crying. Some woman, but mostly children. 

Liam and I walked around for a bit, horrified at what we were seeing. The easy children to see were the ones who coughed and choked and cried. The hard ones to see were the ones who were to weak to make any sound at all. 

A small boy with malaria was introduced to me. 

"How old is he? A little less than a year?" I asked. 

His mother shook her head. 

"Three years," she replied, her heavy accent mixed in with her raspy voice. 

I was stunned. I couldn't believe that this tiny little boy was three years old. 

She picked him up and his head lolled to the side. She gently took it and kept it right-side up. 

"He's to weak to hold his own head up," Liam said softly, his voice breaking slightly. 

It hurt to know that this little boy was only one of many, many children. 

"How sick is he?" I asked. 

"Very, very sick," his mother replied. 

She cradled him lovingly, an occasional tear sliding down her face. 

And then I knew. 

There was a very small chance of this little boy surviving. I looked at him, saw the dullness in his eyes, and wondered if he was in any pain. 

"Is he...is he going to, uh, die?" Liam asked, taking the words out of my mouth. 

The little boy's mother nodded, pursing her lips and bowing her head. 

"Yes," she whispered, "My baby is going to die." 

I felt tears spring to my eyes upon hearing her. Her pain was so intense that I could feel it in my gut. 

I sat in a chair, watching her as more and more tears spilled over my eyes. 

"Can I...can I maybe hold him?" I asked carefully. 

She nodded, gingerly passing him to me. 

"Oh," I gasped as I took him, being careful to support his head. 

He was so light. He felt like nothing. 

I was only able to hold him for a few minutes before I passed him back, overwhelmed by emotion. 

I stood up and went over to Liam. 

"Li, I...I don't think I can stay anymore," I choked. 

He nodded, his eyes wide with grief and shock. Because that was all we could feel, grief and shock. 

We said our goodbyes and exited, relieved to be out of there. 

When we climbed into the van waiting for us, I buried my face in his shoulder. 

"I'm so selfish!" I wailed, "Here I am, wanting to die, and there...all those children! They're actually dying and they don't have a...they don't have a choice! It's not fair!" 

I clutched at his shirt desperately. 

"It's not fair! It's not fair!" I yelled, "They're so young and so innocent and it's not fair!" 

I beat his chest with my fists, frustrated with how selfish I was, frustrated that we couldn't save everybody, no matter how hard we tried. He allowed me to hit him until I hugging me to him as tightly as he could. 

I broke down into angry sobs. I cried for the children, I cried for their parents, I cried for how selfish I was while there was so much suffering going on in the world. I had an amazing life, yet I was weaker than any one of these people here. 

I hadn't been aware that the van had moved to the hospital that the other three were at, but I heard the doors open and three silent, grim bodies climb in. 

"Oh, oh, Hazza," Louis immediately breathed when he took in my state. 

I allowed him to pull me towards him, making me cling to him instead of Liam. As I flung myself towards him, I saw that I wasn't the only one deeply affected. 

For one of the first times that I had ever seen, Zayn was openly, bitterly crying, his face buried in his hands. 

Niall's and Louis's eyes shone with unshed tears and Liam had a few dripping down his cheeks. 

I pushed my face into Louis's neck, seeking the comfort and familiarity that I knew that I would find there. 

"It's not fair," I whimpered, "It's horrible and I'm so, so selfish." 

"Shh, love, it's alright. It's okay now. Just breath for me," Louis murmured, his fingers tangling in my hair. I knew that that was his way of seeking comfort; he had always had this tendency with playing with my hair when he was anxious or upset. 

"I know that it's terrible, darling, and you know that we're going to really change some lives now through this. You have to remember that," he added, equally as gently. 

I didn't move from my position, curled into his body, even when we arrived at the hotel we were staying at. 

Louis didn't seem to mind. 

He simply picked me up and carried me to his room. 

I heard Zayn's door slam loudly and the slightly quieter noises of Liam's and Niall's doors shutting. 

Louis struggled to get his own open, but he did. He took me inside and laid us both down on the bed. 

"He was so small, Lou. I thought that he was hardly one, but he was three! And he couldn't even hold his own head up," I whispered, sniffling as I felt my eyes well up again, "And when I held him...Lou, he couldn't have weighed more than this pillow." 

Louis made a soft noise in his throat and I realized that he had started to cry as well. 

"There was a little child and I talked to its grandmother. It's mother was dead, Haz. I can't help but feel guilty because it was pretty obvious that that child will be joining its mother soon," he told me, sharing the horrors that he had witnessed. 

"I just feel so selfish. I want to die every day and I've been taking life for granted. And now...now I can't help but feel like these kids are being punished because...because of me," I whimpered. 

My shoulders shook as I struggled and failed to control myself. 

"Oh, sweetheart, this isn't your fault. You can't think like that. You're going through a tough time, yes, but you're not to blame for all of this, that's absolutely ridiculous," Louis chastised gently. 

I pulled back from his shirt and looked into his watery blue eyes. 

"I love you," I whispered. I meant it with everything that I had. 

"I know. I love you too, Hazza," he replied, pulling me back into his chest as I dissolved into another wave of tears. 

It hurt less for him to not say that he loved me than to say it. 

I knew that he didn't mean it the same way that I did.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry's POV

A few weeks later and back in the studio, I was doing no better.

Of course I wasn't.

In the past two weeks, I had been able to keep down about four decent meals and I hardly went more than a few hours without cutting. 

I'd called into my doctor for a new prescription for the medication I was taking, lying and saying that I thought I might have left them in Ghana because I couldn't find them anywhere. In reality, I was taking them so often that I had finished both bottles. 

But I had to wait for them to refill the prescriptions and it was absolutely brutal. 

We were rehearsing for the upcoming tour and I couldn't keep my voice and hands from shaking, the withdrawal showing easily. I kept missing cues and my voice was going all over the place. 

"Hey, Harry, are you doing alright? You're not looking well at all," Niall commented after a particularly bad run-through of Over Again. 

I shrugged as dismissively as I could. 

"Think I might have caught something. It's no big deal, really," I lied, shoving my hands in my coat pockets to hide the tremors. 

"Hopefully you get better for your birthday," he replied, wrinkling his nose. 

I nodded, copying his expression, pretending that I was equally as put off by the idea of being sick on my birthday as he was. 

"I think we should order a pizza," Louis suggested. 

"I think we should order many pizzas," Niall argued. 

Louis rolled his eyes at him and shot me a small, worried smile. We hadn't talked, really talked, since coming back from Ghana. Any conversation we had was forced and stilted. 

Our relationship was crumbling and all I could do was watch as pieces sifted through my fingers. 

We did end up getting pizza, and as we sat in a circle, talking and eating, I realized that I now found pizza quite disgusting. I had always loved it, but now the pools of grease and oil made my stomach turn and not in a pleasant way. 

I getting to be seriously messed up. I realized that I didn't really care anymore. I didn't care about anything but Louis, really. Not even myself. 

I became painfully aware that the boys were all trying to discreetly watch me, making sure that I ate what they thought was an adequate amount. It was no secret that I was starting to lose weight again and it was sending them into a frenzy. Liam especially, because he had seen my hips. I had gone back to him after Ghana and begged him not to tell the other boys. He had reluctantly agreed and the subject hadn't been brought up again. 

I picked up a second slice, trying to not make a face as I bit into it, the thick cheese settling heavily into my stomach. 

The boys had slipped into an easy, casual conversation. I wasn't paying any attention to it so I didn't know what they were talking about. 

After I had forced down two slices and I felt uncomfortably full, I went to the loo. I'd always made myself throw up in the privacy of my own flat with nobody else around. This was my first time doing it with other people nearby. 

I found that I kind of liked the thrill. 

I slipped into a stall, not bothering to lock it. 

I sighed, brushing my hair back from my face as I knelt down. I wished that I was actually sick and Louis was there to comfort me and keep my hair out of my face for me. In a way, I was sick, just in my mind. 

Sighing, I recklessly shoved my fingers into the back of my throat, light enough so it didn't hurt much, but hard enough so that it had an effect. 

I had discovered early on that I had an extremely sensitive gag reflex, which made this easier. 

I heard the door to the loo swing open and my eyes widened. 

But it was too late. 

I retched violently, and cursed myself for not locking the stall door. 

"Haz?" Louis asked, rushing into the stall. 

Of all people that had to walk in, of course it was Louis. 

"Why didn't you say that you were feeling this bad?" he asked gently, pinning my hair back as I gagged again. 

Maybe it was a good thing that had been him seeing me throw up and not Liam or Zayn. They would probably realize what was really going on instead of assuming that I was just sick, like Louis was. How Niall would think I wasn't sure of. 

I stopped a few moments later, breathing heavily and feeling beads of sweat drip down my forehead. Louis pulled me onto his lap as he sat against the wall. I shivered from his touch and he assumed that it was yet again because I was ill. 

"Think you're done?" he asked. 

I nodded. I knew that I was done. My stomach no longer felt uncomfortably heavy with the weight of food. 

"I felt fine, but I guess the pizza just didn't sit well," I said, not exactly lying. 

"Haz, you've looked like shit all day. You cannot say that you felt fine," Louis scolded lightly. 

I sighed and pulled away from him. I stood, shaking with the want for my medication more than ever. 

"Come on, we need to get you home and in bed, alright?" Louis cooed, wrapping his arm around my waist. 

I nodded, allowing him to lead me out the door.

 

Liam's POV

I watched Harry leave to go to the loo, observing his shaking hands. He wasn't just sick like Niall thought. He was suffering with some kind of withdrawal, which I could only hope was from self-harming. I didn't know what to do if there was something else wrong with him. 

"Has Harry said anything to you guys? He's losing weight again," Niall said softly, "I think it's worse than last time." 

I knew that Harry had pleaded with me not to tell the boys about his worsening state, but I struggled with myself to keep it between he and I. 

"He's been really quiet and spacey lately, has anybody else noticed?" Zayn asked. 

Niall nodded. I noticed that Louis had tensed and his eyes hardened. 

"He hasn't had any new cuts on his wrist in ages, though," Niall added. I looked away from him, feeling guilty that they didn't know the truth. 

"Can we not talk about this? All we ever do is talk behind his back! No wonder he isn't talking to us anymore!" Louis snarled suddenly, standing up and storming towards the door that Harry had disappeared behind. 

"You know, he's kinda right," Zayn sighed, biting his lower lip, a nervous habit of his. 

"But Harry doesn't tell us anything anymore. We're left to figure out what's going on by ourselves," Niall pointed out, "And sometimes someone has information that the rest of us don't." 

I felt my face start to burn, feeling like Niall was talking directly to me. 

"Lads, I should probably tell you something," I blurted. 

"Yeah, Li?" Niall prompted, his eyes wide as he stared at me, willing me to tell him. Zayn watched me as well, his eyes burning and intense. 

I picked at a small spot on my jeans, hating myself for breaking a promise. 

"Harry isn't getting better. He's getting worse. But he's cutting his hips so we can't see. It's horrible," I mumbled. 

I forced myself to look up. The hope that had flickered in Niall's expression when he had pointed out that there were no new cuts on Harry's wrist had vanished. Zayn had his eyes shut tightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"He's been having panic attacks as well," I added quietly. After the first one, Harry had had another and it had been bad. 

It had been after Ghana, after he asked me not to tell the boys about his cutting. I'd asked him how he and Louis were doing, if they were still in this weird, awkward, almost cautious stage with each other. He'd ranted for a good ten minutes about it until he'd gotten himself really worked up. He'd started to shake and when I had went over to him and grabbed his wrist to sit him down, I'd felt how frighteningly rapid his pulse was. He had nearly started hyperventilating and it had taken a good while to calm him down. 

"We need to get him help, Li. We can't just keep hoping he gets better, because he's not," Zayn said, his eyes dark and serious. 

"I know. I really wasn't supposed to tell you guys; he asked me to keep it between he and I," I mumbled guiltily. 

"I'm glad you did," Niall said gently, patting my knee, "We deserve to know too." 

"Niall's right. I had my suspicions that he was hiding his cuts just because he looks so bad. I mean, he's just so skinny. Honestly, I don't think he can lose much more weight before it becomes to much for his body to take," Zayn said quietly. 

I was about to reply, but the door opened, Louis and Harry coming out of it. I noticed how sick Harry looked as he leaned against Louis as they walked towards us. 

"Turns out Harry's a little more sick than he let on," Louis said. 

I noticed that Louis had his arm around Harry's waist. Harry was so thin that his hip bones almost provided a shelf for Louis's hand to rest on. 

"Did you throw up?" Niall asked Harry. 

Harry bit his lip and nodded, looking fixedly at the ground. 

"I'll take you home, yeah?" Louis asked, his thumb gently rubbing circles into Harry's hip. 

"I can get home by myself. My car's here. I feel fine, anyways," Harry muttered, trying to shift away from Louis. 

I felt bad for both of them. It hurt Harry to have Louis be so gentle and caring with him and to know that Louis was only doing it in a platonic way and it hurt and confused Louis when Harry brushed him off. 

"You're not fine, Harry! You just puked your guts out like two minutes ago!" Louis snapped, irritation flickering in his eyes. 

"I can take him home," I volunteered. 

Harry looked at me thankfully and Louis caught his expression. He rolled his eyes and removed his arm from Harry's waist. Harry immediately stepped away, distancing the two of them. 

"Of course you're okay with it if it's one of them, just as long as it isn't me, right? What happened to when we always took care of each other if one of us was sick? Do you even care about me anymore? Cause it sure feels like you don't sometimes!" Louis snarled, his eyes narrowing angrily. 

Harry wrapped his arms around his thin frame and stared at Louis's shoes. 

Harry had always hated it when anybody yelled at him but if Louis was doing it, it was a whole different story. All Louis had to do was raise his voice slightly and Harry would usually dissolve into tears. Their fighting over Taylor hadn't made Harry cry like he had used to, but I knew that it had really upset him. 

I could see his whole body start to shake and his breathing start to speed up. 

Apparently Louis didn't see it, however. 

"I just don't understand why you keep pushing me away, Harry! I'm here for you, you have to know that! Even if you're calling me, drunk as can be, or upset because of a sick child or anything, I'm here! But apparently all I'm good for is being a shoulder to cry on, according to you. And I know that what's happening to you is related to me and I feel like it's my fault! Christ, look at you! You look like a fucking anorexic teenage girl who's got scars all the way up her arm! And if its something that I did, quit being so frustrating and just tell me so that I can fix it! I'd do anything for you, Haz, you know that and I-" 

"Stop it!" Harry screamed suddenly, cutting Louis off, "Just shut up!" 

I stood and rushed over to Harry, quickly pulling him into my chest. He flung his arms around me with a whimper and I felt the alarmingly quick rising and falling of his chest, like he had just sprinted a mile. I grabbed his wrist and felt his rushing pulse. He needed to calm down before something seriously bad happened. 

"Shh, come on, Harry, it's okay," I whispered, glaring at Louis, then mouthing 'panic attack' at Niall and Zayn. 

Harry's body shook like a leaf against mine and I sat down, still holding him to me. 

"I'm sorry," Louis whispered, "I just got so angry." 

"That's what you say every time you flip out at him," Zayn growled. 

Louis's eyes were starting to fill up and he cautiously crept towards Harry and I. Harry's breathing was settling down, but his heart still beat much too quickly. 

Louis knelt down and tentatively touched Harry's back, running his hand along the sharp contour of Harry's spine. 

Harry sucked in a breath, but relaxed almost immediately, somewhat leaning into Louis's touch. I marveled at the effect that Louis had on him. 

"We should go," Niall said softly to Zayn, who nodded. 

"If I leave, will you two promise not to hurt each other?" I asked, eager to go see Danielle. She had a few days off and had made plans to stay with me. 

Louis nodded, but his worried gaze remained fixed on Harry. 

"Alright," I said softly. 

I stood up and left.

Harry's POV

The second that Liam left, I felt my heart start to beat faster again. But Louis gently rubbed my back and it felt so nice and comforting that I had to relax slightly. 

"I really am sorry, Hazza. But...I kind of meant it. I feel like you don't care about me anymore," Louis sighed, his soft voice loud in the silent studio. 

I responded by leaning against his chest, closing my eyes as he ran his fingers through my hair. 

"No, that's not it at all. I love you, Boo, you know that. I just...I need a little space sometimes," I said lamely. 

"You need too much space," he grumbled, but I heard a faint smile in his voice. 

"I'm damaged, Lou. I need a lot of space to try and heal myself," I whispered, finding comfort as I pushed my face into his neck. 

"Why can't I help you?" he asked softly. 

"Because everything will get worse if I tell you why. Please just trust me. If I thought you needed to know, I'd tell you," I replied. 

He was silent for a long while, his hands tracing patterns on my back. I shut my eyes and imagined that he was holding me like this because he was in love with me. I knew it would hurt when I came back to reality, but the feeling of pure bliss was momentarily worth it. 

"Your forehead is hot," he finally murmured after placing the back of his hand on it. 

"'M fine," I mumbled. 

"No you're not. And I'm going to take you home whether you like it or not," Louis said sternly. 

"'If you don't wanna take it slow and you just wanna take me home,'" I sang softly, making him laugh. 

He pushed me off of his lap and helped me stand up. 

Once we had arrived back at my flat, he came inside with me, despite my protests, determined to take care of me. 

Louis ordered me to get in bed, so I did, patiently waiting for him to come into my room. 

When he finally did, he appeared with a glass of water, a thermometer, and a flannel. 

He crawled into my bed next to me, sticking the thermometer under my tongue and putting the flannel on my forehead. 

The thermometer beeped after a few minutes and he frowned at it. 

"You've got a little bit of a fever," he said. 

Oh. So maybe I was sick. It didn't surprise me. My immune system couldn't be the best with the lack of nutrients I was giving my body. 

I didn't respond. I just shut my eyes and tried to ignore the electric feeling that I got whenever he touched me.

'Happy birthday pal.' 

That was Louis's tweet to me. 

I couldn't help but feel upset. His birthday tweets for Niall and Liam just a few months prior had been so much more sincere. 

I knew that he didn't want to say anything that would give the Larry shippers something to obsess over and that was why his tweet was so insincere, but I knew that they would probably be a little angry. 

I went to a club with Nick Grimshaw and a bunch more of my friends. 

Niall, Liam and Louis came, and I almost cried when I saw Louis. 

He hugged me and grinned. 

"Happy birthday, Haz. You're getting old," he said, wrinkling his nose. 

I rolled my eyes and laughed, familiar with his fear of getting older. 

"Soon I'll have wrinkles like you," I teased, laughing when he hit my arm playfully. 

He stayed for about an hour. 

"I'm going to go to Andy's party, okay?" he said. 

I felt my face fall. 

Liam had only stayed for about a half hour before leaving for Andy's, but I understood. Andy was Liam's best mate. 

But I was supposed to be Louis's best mate. 

"Why don't you stay longer?" I asked, wincing at my whiny tone. 

Louis shrugged uncomfortably and I knew the answer. He wanted to leave before the paps arrived and the media made a big deal about him being at my party. He didn't want any Larry rumors going around. 

"Okay," I muttered, "Have a good time." 

Niall frowned from a few feet away and I knew that he had caught the conversation. 

"Can I talk to you real quick before you leave, Louis?" he asked, coming over. 

Louis nodded and followed Niall into a hallway where the loos were located. It was quieter there. 

I stood against the corner of the wall, listening. 

"You know that you're hurting him," Niall growled, "He wants you here, Louis, and it hurts him when you blow him off just because of the rumors." 

"You don't understand, Niall! I'm trying to protect Eleanor! She gets so upset over the hate and I'll do anything to make it even a little better," Louis complained. 

"Even if it means seriously hurting your best mate's feelings?" Niall replied. 

I heard silence as Louis hesitated. 

"Come on, Niall, he understands. He's a part of the rumors as well. Maybe he doesn't understand that much because he's not in a relationship where someone has to deal with the Larry bullshit," he snorted. 

"You know how you got mad at him during rehearsal for pushing you away? Well, that's exactly what you're doing right now. Why do you think he's distancing himself from you? He's just doing the same thing that you're doing to him," Niall snapped. 

"Niall, you know he's pushing me away for a reason that I don't even know. I'm sorry that I can't act like I used to with him but he needs to understand that. Maybe he doesn't because he doesn't understand what it's like to love somebody so much that it hurts to see them hurting. I'll do anything for Eleanor just as long as we can be happy together," Louis sighed. 

"Oh, trust me. Harry understands that way better than you think he does," Niall growled. 

I leaned against the wall as Niall appeared. He didn't seem surprised to see that I was listening to their conversation. 

"I'm sorry that he's being a jerk," he sighed. 

"'S fine. Lets go get drunk," I suggested. 

He grinned widely. 

An hour later, as a stripped that Grimmy had hired danced in front of me, I realized that Louis had never said goodbye to me. 

Having the stripper was a little embarrassing because I had no interest in girls. Actually, I had no interest in anybody but Louis, but especially girls. 

I covered my face with my hands, faking laughter. 

Afterwards, I ordered the strongest thing there was, determined to get very, very drunk. I wanted to forget how much I hurt because of Louis. I wanted to forget everything. 

And I did. 

I stumbled to the car waiting to take me home, one of my security guards having to help me walk. 

"You know, Louis is such an arse sometimes. But he's a very sexy arse," I mumbled to Grimmy, who laughed. 

"His arse is a very sexy arse, I must say," he replied, just as drunk as I was. 

"He hurts my feelings a lot though," I said, frowning. 

I had a few friends over for a smaller party. I knew that I should have probably asked them to stay, but I didn't want them to. So they all either got people to pick them up or got cabs. 

I flopped into my bed, feeling like I had drunk so much that my eyeballs had to be swimming in alcohol. 

I liked the numbing buzz that being absolutely pissed gave. It was like taking pills but a lot stronger. 

I toyed with the idea of calling Louis for a while but decided against it. Even with how drunk I was, I knew that calling him was a terrible idea. 

I was exhausted suddenly. I fell asleep with all of my clothes and shoes on.

Christ, did I have a hangover. 

I woke up and immediately had to run to the toilet to throw up, my head spinning and throbbing so much so that I blacked out for a brief moment. 

I groaned loudly, fumbling blindly for some sort of medication, which I had finally gotten the refilled prescriptions for. 

I stumbled back to my bed, burying myself in the duvet and pillows. 

I'd had many a hangover but this was probably the worst. 

I couldn't even move without an explosion of pain in my head. My tongue felt heavy and tasted bitter from getting sick but I couldn't bring myself to get a glass of water. 

My phone went off, sending fresh stabs of pain off in my head and I reached for it, answering for the sake of shutting off the noise. 

"'Lo?" I mumbled. 

"We have rehearsal today," Liam said. 

"Christ, seriously? I can hardly think, much less rehearse," I groaned. 

"Hangover?" Liam asked. 

"I think I got my head run over by a truck," I complained. 

"Hey, Niall's in the same boat as you are and I'm fairly sure that Louis probably is as well, though I don't think he was quite as drunk as you. I enjoyed receiving your drunk texts by the way," Liam chuckled. 

"Fuck, what did I say?" I sighed. 

"I have no idea. They are completely incoherent," he replied. 

"Wha' time's rehearsal?" I muttered. 

"A half hour. So get out of bed and take some paracetamol and then get down to the studio," Liam ordered. 

I groaned and hung up without replying. 

I somehow did manage to get to rehearsal, my head throbbing as I shuffled into the studio. 

"Christ, Harry, you look horrible," Louis snorted. 

"I feel absolutely horrible," I grumbled. 

"You were so pissed last night, mate," Niall chuckled, "It was actually quite funny." 

"How are you not hungover?" I asked. 

"Irish blood, mate, Irish blood," he answered proudly. 

I ended up having to go home early. My migraine grew worse and worse as I struggled to sing and I eventually started getting dizzy from the pain. 

Louis offered to take me home again, but I refused. 

I fell asleep as soon as I got home.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry's POV

I gritted my teeth as I scrolled through Twitter. Pictures of Louis and Eleanor at the Topshop fashion show were everywhere. 

There were some where he looked bored enough to fall asleep, which I sort of understood. Louis loved clothes but fashion itself wasn't really his thing. He didn't care about designer brands. If he found a store he liked, then he shopped there. He liked Topshop, but I knew that he hadn't really wanted to go to the fashion show. He'd told me. 

Louis had been trying to talk to me more since my birthday, trying yet again to fix our friendship. I knew that he was getting frustrated with me. I would talk to him but if he tried to make it a meaningful conversation where we really talked like we used to, I would find a way to change the topic or end the conversation. I also let him do most of the talking and if he started talking about Eleanor, I had found that I was very good at tuning him out. 

I felt a stab of pain in my chest as I saw one where he was smiling at her, looking so in love. 

Then I saw a picture taken behind them where there were multiple paparazzi in front of them. It made them look so fake and over-publicized. I knew that Louis would be upset about that picture if he saw it, which he likely would. 

I smiled slightly as I saw a tweet commenting on his sparkly-looking blazer. 

'That awkward moment when somebody wears sparkly clothes and touches his band mates more than his girlfriend but says that he isn't gay #bullshit' 

I wanted to retweet it, but I knew that I would get in huge trouble. There was a short 'oh, fuck it' moment where I almost did it anyways, but I knew that Louis would flip his shit when he found out. I liked the relative peace between he and I and I didn't want to ruin it. 

I pulled my duvet more tightly around me. My stomach growled but I didn't want food. I didn't want anything but Louis and it was obvious. 

My phone rang and I answered. 

"Harry, I know what you're doing right now, so stop it." 

Liam. 

"What am I doing then, Liam?" I snapped, irritated that he had disrupted my self-pitying/loathing session. 

"You're looking at pictures of Louis and Eleanor. Stop it," he growled, "It won't do you any good." 

Since my birthday, Liam had been getting much more harsh, forcing me to eat more than I was comfortable with during rehearsal and reprimanding me whenever he saw that I was staring at Louis or if he thought I was thinking about Louis. 

He was really starting to get under my skin. I wasn't going to change the way that I was or stop loving Louis. I was starting to push Liam away along with Louis. Niall and Zayn never really provoked me but I wasn't exactly opening up to them either. 

I was basically forcing everybody away from me and I really didn't care. 

"And what will do me good?" I sighed irritably. 

"Not starving yourself, not hurting yourself, not obsessing over Louis and Eleanor," Liam said. 

I rolled my eyes and promptly hung up on him. 

I spent the rest of the day watching Larry Stylinson videos and looking at Tumblr and Twitter. 

I could see what our fans saw. I saw how I looked at Louis, how I acted around Louis. But I couldn't see anything different in how Louis looked at me than how he looked at any of the other lads. 

I watched a video dedicated to the theory that my change was because of Louis dating Eleanor. I had to give our fans credit; they were smart. The video pointed out things like how my weightloss had become noticible a few months after they got together. There were things that I hadn't even noticed like how whenever Eleanor was mentioned in an interview, I tensed up and either looked hurt or angry. 

I eventually put my laptop down and shut my eyes, exhausted. Not eating took a lot of energy out of you.

 

'Hey, Haz, I need to tell you something and I want you to be the first to know.' 

That was the text that Louis sent me later in the evening. I couldn't help but feel a frustratingly familiar flicker of hope. I'd seen how bored he'd looked with Eleanor in the pictures. Maybe he'd broken up with her. We'd always comforted each other after break ups, so it would explain why he wanted to see me first. 

I knew that it was a bad idea to get my hopes up, but I couldn't keep a stupidly happy smile off of my face on the way to Louis's flat. Maybe things would finally work out for me. 

I knocked on the door, knowing that having the liberty of just walking in had vanished along with our abnormally close friendship. 

The door opened and a grinning Louis ushered me inside. 

"Hey, Harry!" he greeted. 

I opened my mouth to reply, but noticed that Eleanor was sitting on his sofa, a smile stretching across her face. She raised her arm and waves and I saw something glitter as she moved her hand. 

I felt my heart drop straight to the bottom of my stomach and shatter upon impact. 

Louis had walked over to Eleanor and wrapped his arms around her, saying something to me that I couldn't hear. White noise filled my ears, blocking out everything that they were saying. 

I couldn't focus on anything but the glittering silver ring on her finger. My vision swam and blurred, but the only thing I could see was that ring. 

They hadn't broken up. 

Louis had fucking proposed to her. 

The pieces of my heart broke into smaller ones as I realized that I had basically just lost Louis forever. Any chance of us being together had vanished. 

Louis must have finally noticed that I wasn't congratulating them and smiling, because I saw his ecstatic expression slip way into one of worry. He said something and reached out to me. 

I was finally able to move. Panic and heartbreak overwhelmed me and I stumbled back, darting for the door. 

"Harry!" Louis called after me, "Harry, wait!" 

I flung open his door and sprinted out, ignoring his desperate pleads to know what was wrong. 

So much was wrong. 

I couldn't take it anymore.

 

Louis's POV

I was stunned. Stunned, confused, and rather hurt. 

Why hadn't Harry been happy for Eleanor and I? He had looked really upset and I was desperate to know why he had reacted so negatively. 

Eleanor looked at me, worried. 

"What was that?" she asked softly. 

Eleanor had always been confused and a little upset about why Harry always acted so coldly to her. I could imagine that she was just as hurt as I was about Harry's reaction. 

"I have no idea," I replied helplessly. 

I pulled out my phone and hit #1 on the speed dial, Harry. 

It rang twice before stopping, but there was no answer. 

"He denied my call!" I said, shocked. Even if we were fighting, we never denied each other's calls or hung up on each other. We just didn't do that. 

"Maybe he's just upset because you didn't tell him first," Eleanor suggested, "It is a rather large surprise." 

"Yeah, but...he looked like I stabbed him or like he was going to be sick," I grumbled. 

"Give him a few minutes to process it. Then call him again or wait for the other boys to get here and then get one of them to call," she said. 

I smiled and nodded, pulling her close to me. 

"He'll come around, you know he will. He's your best friend," she added. 

I sighed, "I don't know if he and I even qualify as friends anymore. We hardly ever talk and when we do, it usually ends in one or both of us crying or yelling. I never know what's going to happen if I try to talk to him." 

Eleanor frowned. This was nothing new to her. I came to her for comfort whenever things were bad with Harry, whether or not I was involved. I knew that she hated seeing me so scared and helpless and it worried her. 

"I've never seen him react so strongly to something. I just want to know why he isn't happy for us," I mumbled, "And why he's so messed up." 

Suddenly, Eleanor stiffened and backed away, her eyes wide. 

"What?" I asked, alarmed. 

"Ohmygod," she breathed, "Why didn't I ever see it?" 

"What? El, what's wrong?" I asked frantically. 

"You need to call Liam or Zayn or Niall, I don't care, and tell whoever what just happened with Harry. Now, Louis," she insisted, pacing. Something was really troubling her and I needed her to tell me why so that I could help her. 

"They'll be here in like ten minutes. Then we'll tell them," I assured her. 

Eleanor looked like she might protest, but I pulled her down on the sofa with me. 

"What's going on, love? Please tell me," I urged. I tried to make her look at me but she averted her eyes. 

"It's...I think I understand why Harry reacted how he is and why he's been so...well, messed up," she said slowly, "It just clicked and now I feel so stupid for not seeing it before." 

"Tell me, El! Seriously, I need to know," I said, part of me excited and part of me nervous. 

"I can't. It'll change everything," she mumbled. 

"No, it won't!" I protested, taking her hand, "El, I gave you this ring because I love you and I trust you. Why can't you trust me?" 

"It's not that I don't trust you or that I don't love you, Lou. I just...it isn't really my place to tell you. I understand why the other boys won't tell you either," Eleanor sighed, tucking her legs underneath her and looking away. 

I stewed in anger silently for several minutes but I couldn't bring myself to stay mad at her for long. I sighed and moved over to wrap her in my arms, kissing her neck lightly. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. 

"You know, I was really hoping for this to be a much happier day for us. I'm really sorry that Harry kind of ruined the mood," I said. 

"No, don't blame him," Eleanor said quickly. 

I didn't question how quick she was to defend him. Instead, I smiled and leaned forwards to kiss her. 

"I love you," I murmured. It was true. I really did love her, more than anybody I had loved before. 

A few quiet, peaceful minutes passed before we heard knocking. 

"Hopefully they'll have a better reaction," I sighed. She didn't reply, but I caught a doubtful look as it passed across her face. 

"Hey, it'll be fine, yeah? What reason would they have to disapprove? They'll be ecstatic, don't worry," I reassured her. 

Eleanor smiled and I stepped past her to open the door. Liam, Niall, and Zayn stood there. 

"Hey!" I greeted, allowing them in. 

"What'd you need us for?" Liam asked. 

"Show them, El," I said, nudging her playfully. She smiled shyly and raised her hand, making the ring obvious. I was confused at how reluctant she seemed. 

"You...proposed?" Zayn gasped, his eyes wide. I nodded, grinning. 

I was about to launch into the story of how I did it, but Liam interrupted me. 

"Does Harry know?" he asked urgently. I made a face. 

"Well, yeah. I told him before you guys got here. He ran out, though. Why did he do that, anyways?" I grumbled. Then I noticed how pale all three of them had turned. 

"What?" I asked, starting to feel panicky. 

"We need to get to his flat, now," Liam growled, "Eleanor, you should just stay here." 

She nodded. 

"Let's go, Louis! Now!" Liam snarled, grabbing my wrist and yanking me out before I could protest. He dragged me to his car and shoved me in before slamming the door. Zayn and Niall jumped in after. 

"The hell was that for?" I snapped, rubbing my wrist where Liam had grabbed me roughly. 

None of them replied. Liam was gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. Zayn was glaring darkly out if the window and Niall was literally shaking. 

"God dammit, tell me something!" I yelled, "I have no idea what the fuck is going on and why everyone is acting like me proposing is a terrible thing!" 

They answered me with silence and I felt myself grow hot with anger. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snarled. They still didn't reply so I turned and sulked out the window. 

We pulled up to Harry's flat. 

"Get out," Liam ordered, already halfway out himself. 

I followed him as he practically flew up to Harry's door. He wrestled with the handle and cursed loudly. 

"It's locked," he spat, fumbling for his keys. I handed him mine. 

"Why? He never locks his door," I said. 

"Exactly. He's trying to buy himself time," Liam grunted. 

"You think he really...?" Niall asked. 

Liam nodded grimly, shoving the door open. 

"Niall, get ready to call an ambulance," he ordered. 

"Harry!" Zayn yelled. 

There was no answer. 

There was collective cursing from all three boys and they seemed to silently agree to go to Harry's room. 

The door was shut and Liam opened it. 

My first thought was that I didn't remember Harry getting red carpeting in his room. 

My second was realizing that it wasn't the carpet that was red. 

It was the scarlet blood that was pooling around his still body. 

I felt arms wrap around my waist as I tried to get to Harry, my Harry. Liam was crouching next to him and I distantly heard Niall on the phone. 

I thrashed and fought against the tan arms that held me back and I dropped to my knees, unable to stand any longer. 

And no matter how loudly I screamed, all that I heard was a deafening silence.


	15. Epilogue-Suicide Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, there is a sequel to this. It's called The Moment I Knew. It's not finished yet; it's only got 5 chapters, but I'll post it as soon as I can!

To Louis 

\---------------------------------------

I suppose that I should write this rather quickly because I don't know how much time I have until somebody comes running in here. I hope it isn't you, Louis. I don't want you to have to see this, see me like this. 

I also suppose that I should say that I'm sorry, but I'm not. I'm not sorry. I hate the fact that I have to leave you like this, but I know that it's the best thing for me. It's really selfish and incredibly unfair to everyone else, but I can't do this anymore. 

But I am sorry for the fact that this will undoubtably cause you pain. I wish that I could find another way, but I can't. 

This isn't a spur of the moment thing. I've been wanting to die for a little less than a year now, but I've tried to hold on the best that I can because I know that this is going to hurt people. But I'm too weak to hold on anymore and my one reason to stay is gone. 

You're my reason. 

I'm in love with you, Louis. I love you so fucking much that it's literally killing me. I thought that maybe I had a tiny chance with you, but the second I saw that ring, I knew that there never really was a chance. 

I guess you could say that I fell hard for you and never got back up. 

We kissed once, you and I, when we were both drunk. I wasn't that drunk but you were so pissed that I had no idea how you were even sitting up by yourself. Afterwards, I thought that maybe that was it, maybe we could be together. But in the morning, you didn't remember and you introduced me to your new girlfriend. 

The night that she broke up with you, you and I slept together. It was the most amazing night of my entire life because for once, you were loving me like I needed you too. 

And when it was over, you did tell me that you loved me. 

But you called me El. 

I think I should be scared right now, but I'm not. I feel so numb, but that might be the pills talking. I'm not tired yet, but I know I will be soon.

I can't even cry, Lou. I feel like I should be, but I can't. I'm so numb and in shock and I think I might be a little excited because finally, finally I won't have to hurt anymore. I can be happy, maybe. Maybe not, because I don't think I'll be happy wherever I go, just because you won't be there with me.

Along with the cutting, I've become addicted to my anti-depressants and panic attack medication. I make myself throw up too. I guess that makes me bulimic, doesn't it? I don't know why I started. It makes me feel a little better; it's a kind of release, just like the cutting. Maybe I like the way it's making my bones stick out. It's kind of pretty to me in a twisted way, to be honest.

But it's like if I can't have you, then I don't want anything else, not food, not life. 

I wish I could hate you, but I just can't. I love you too much to even dislike you. 

It's not hard to see why I fell in love with you. You're so beautiful, Boo, inside and out. You're gorgeous, I've never seen anybody more attractive than you. You're just so you. You can make me laugh when I want to cry and you're always there when I need you. You've got me wrapped around your finger. If you walked in here right now and told me to stop, to keep living, I would. I'd try as hard as I could just so you could be happy with me. I have tried, I really have, but I just can't try anymore. 

Louis, I really don't want to hurt you like this. I know you'll be upset and you'll blame yourself. I know that you'll probably drink a lot and refuse to talk to anybody. I know that because I know you, better than I know myself. 

But if there is anything that you need to know, it's that this is absolutely not your fault. You've never intentionally done anything to hurt me and you never knew how bad I was getting. It's not your fault that you didn't know; I hid it as best as I could from you. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I fell in love with you, I let it get this bad, I never acted on it. Maybe back when we were closer than anything, maybe then I should have done something, kissed you, told you how I felt. Maybe then this would be different. 

Every note I have ever sung has been for you, Louis. It's always been you. 

Tell the boys and especially the fans that this isn't their fault either. Make sure Zayn doesn't bottle up his emotions, make sure Niall is cuddled and comforted, and make sure Liam doesn't overwork himself trying to care for everybody. Take care of my mum and Gemma, they'll need somebody and I know that they'll want you; you're like family to them.

Half the time I found myself wondering if they maybe didn't like you better.

That was a joke, Lou. I'm trying to get you to stop crying, because I know you are.

In all seriousness, please, if I'm still alive when somebody finds me, don't let them save me. I don't want to live. Please just let me go. I can't deal with this anymore. If I woke up, I know that I wouldn't be able to take it. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." That's what I'd do, Lou, if I lived, I'd try, try again.

Be happy with Eleanor. You deserve everything in the entire world, and if she can give that to you, then be happy with her. Don't let this ruin your relationship.

I'm really tired now.

I love you so much, Louis. I really do. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

I love you, Boobear. Never forget that. 

-Hazza


End file.
